


Seven Days

by thisbeautifullight



Series: ParkPark - Fluffy, Christmas Universe! [1]
Category: K-pop, Korean Actor RPF, Wooga - Fandom, 花郞 | 화랑 | Hwarang (TV) RPF, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst and Romance, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27632339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisbeautifullight/pseuds/thisbeautifullight
Summary: It's the week before Christmas and two strangers are travelling home when they find themselves stranded together.This is a gay, romantic comedy set in a S. Korea/world in which homophobia isn't a thing. The characters are original but this is my dream-cast <3
Relationships: Park Hyungsik/Park Seo Joon
Series: ParkPark - Fluffy, Christmas Universe! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2180790
Kudos: 8





	Seven Days

**Author's Note:**

> Okay *inhales deeply*
> 
> This is my first fic, so please be kind. 
> 
> I really welcome feedback: even if you don't like it. I want to improve so would love to know what worked and what didn't. I already know what my weaknesses are as a writer, but feedback is always good.
> 
> You can see a dumb, sorta poster I made for this fic [here](https://twitter.com/thbeautifullite/status/1364890739315003392?s=20).

**No Good Deed**

It’s the week before Christmas, at a bus station in Seoul. The air is cold and dry with not a cloud in the sky.

The station is a hive of activity. Bundled-up travellers rush to buy tickets, warm drinks and haul their luggage onto the bus that will carry them to their families for Christmas. There are merry farewells between friends, scowls exchanged between colliding strangers, aloof figures in their solitary world of music or reading and at the far end of the station, there’s a final, bitter glance between old lovers as they part ways.

***

The bus to Pyeongchang is sold out with not a vacant seat available, and one man, Park Seojoon, curses himself for not finding his seat sooner as he finds himself in an aisle seat next to an older man who smells not-unlike pickled fish.

Seojoon is a 32-year-old struggling writer from Seoul, returning to his family home in Pyeongchang for Christmas. He loathes crowds and is dreading the two-hour bus journey, not to mention the welcome he’s expecting from his energetic and enthusiastic family, which wears him out just thinking about it.

He removes his coat, stashing it in the overhead storage and reaches down to the bag at his feet to retrieve the well-worn book he’s been reading and his glasses. He thumbs the pages until he finds the page he was on and tries to position his long legs comfortably in the small area between seats, adjusting his back and the height at which he’s holding his book, settling on a slightly uncomfortable upright position. The man to his left frowns at him. _I’d rather not be here either, Fishy_ , he thinks to himself, side-eyeing him as he puts on his glasses.

Just as the bus is about to close its doors, a final passenger rushes up the steps and hurriedly shows his ticket to the driver, apologising profusely for the hold up.

He is tall, dressed in winter clothes, his hood pulled up over his head. Seojoon guesses he must be in his late 20s and admires his red and white marl knitted sweater.

As the bus pulls away from the station, the man steadies himself as he searches for an available seat. It’s not long before he spots the only vacant seat, opposite Seojoon, on the other side of the aisle.

***

Park Hyungsik, a 29-year-old musician and part-time worker from Pyeongchang, makes his way to the centre of the bus, pausing occasionally as the motion of the bus threatens to propel him forward. As he reaches the available seat, the man opposite glances at him briefly before returning his eyes to his book. He looks young, around Hyungsik’s age with a messy mop of hair and thin-rimmed, round glasses.

Hyungsik settles into his seat, removing his coat and pulling his scarf out of his bag, using it as a make-shift neck pillow. The older woman next to him blows her nose loudly into a handkerchief and apologises to him with a sniff. He nods to her, smiling politely.

He closes his eyes hoping to catch some sleep. He’s exhausted from a difficult morning and begins to day-dream about his own bed, reminding himself that it’s only a two-hour bus drive. In no time at all, he drifts off to sleep.

***

Forty-five minutes into the journey, a loud bang startles the passengers and the bus suddenly swerves wildly on the country road, the driver fighting to get the vehicle under control.

The travellers brace themselves on the seats in front, and luggage is tossed into the aisle.

The bus comes to a standstill at the side of the road. The inside of the bus breaks into a maelstrom of gasps, low-murmurs and passengers shuffling to gather their belongings.

Seojoon recovers his book from the floor and notices an errant hat within reaching distance. He leans into the aisle to retrieve the hat, finding his head making contact with another.

“Sorry,” Seojoon and Hyungsik offer, almost in unison, as Hyungsik collects his hat from the aisle and rubs his head. “Thanks,” he says, gesturing with his hat. Seojoon nods with a small, polite, half-smile.

***

After a brief inspection of the bus, the driver announces to the passengers that they will all need to alight from the bus briefly so that he can replace a burst tire.

There are mumbles of discontent as the passengers gather their coats and trundle down the steps onto the gravel lay-by.

The two strangers find themselves standing side-by-side, their bags at their feet.

Seojoon busies himself with his luggage, pretending to have something to arrange in his bag, hoping that this might stave-off any potential small-talk that may come his way from any of the passengers.

Despite this, Hyungsik turns to him and politely asks: “Hi! Um, hi. Would you mind watching my bag so that I can run into the woods really quickly?”.

Dumbfounded, Seojoon looks up at him, still crouched over his bag. “Why would you want to run into the woods?” he frowns, confused.

Hyungsik considers him for a moment, searching for a way to politely allude to a call-of-nature. Finally, he settles on: “Um… I drank a large tea back at the station and we’ve got over an hour left until we reach Pyeongchang, so…”. He rounds off his explanation with a big smile, his eyes twinkling in the light of the low winter sun.

Seojoon looks at him for a second longer before standing up and nodding.

Hyungsik nods back at him before, leaping over the low wooden barrier at the side of the road and bouncing off into the woods.

***

“Thank you for your patience, ladies and gentlemen. The tire has been changed and we are now ready to continue with our journey” the bus driver announces politely, after clapping to gain the passengers’ attention. He gestures towards the bus, with both of his arms.

Seojoon begins to panic. It’s been only a few minutes since the stranger disappeared amongst the trees and Seojoon worries that he won’t return in time.

Watching the other passengers collect their belongings and begin their slow shuffle back to the bus, he concludes that he _should_ have time to run into the woods to let the stranger know that they were leaving.

He pauses, doubting his decision. His eyes settle on the man’s bag – his responsibility.

Scooping up both his bag and that of the stranger, Seojoon dashes into the woods and begins calling out to him, not knowing his name, “Hey! Hey! Large Tea!”

He stumbles over the rough terrain, raising his long legs over logs and branches, trying to maintain some speed without spraining an ankle.

“Hey!” he calls again, “We’re leaving!”

It’s not long before he collides with Hyungsik, who is startled to find him amongst the trees.

“The bus is leaving,” Seojoon huffs, between breaths.

Retrieving his bag, Hyungsik quickly registers what’s happening and they both turn to run back to the side of the road.

They arrive at the roadside just in time to see the bus disappearing over the hill in the distance.

They stand side-by-side, breathing heavily in the cold, dusk air, and stare after the bus, in disbelief.

**Emergency**

“Have you got a signal?” Hyungsik ventures at the stranger, looking sadly at his own phone.

Seojoon buries his hand in his coat pocket and pulls out his phone. “Aish. No,” he gasps with dismay. He buries his face in his hands, before tugging at his hair. He looks back at his phone. “Can you call emergency numbers with no signal?” he asks.

“I don’t think so. Is this an emergency though?” Hyungsik smiles and screws up his face sceptically. He shivers as a strong gust of wind pushes against him and buttons his coat.

“I suppose not,” Seojoon murmurs, miserably. His dark eyebrows furrowed, he looks worried.

Watching him intently, Hyungsik gestures up the road, in the direction that they were travelling, “Shall we see what’s that way?”

Seojoon turns to gaze at the road for a moment and then nods.

***

“So, that was my bad,” Hyungsik offers, by way of an apology, as the two men walk slowly side-by-side along the road.

When his new reluctant travelling companion doesn’t respond, he offers an introduction: “I’m Park Hyungsik, by the way,” he holds one of his hands to his chest.

Seojoon nods curtly but doesn’t take his eyes off of the tarmac.

“Sorry again for making you miss the bus,” Hyungsik tries again.

Silence.

Hyungsik sighs quietly to himself, then continues, “But, you know you could’ve told the driver where you were going. Or just asked him to wait for me”.

At this, Seojoon stops in his tracks and turns to face him.

Scowling incredulously, he exclaims: “Of course! You’re right! I’m the stupid one here! It’s not like I drank a huge drink before embarking on a two hour bus ride! What were you planning to do if we hadn’t stopped, piss yourself?!”

Hyungsik stares at him for a moment, hands up defensively, before breaking into a smile, “Like I said: my bad,” he chuckles.

Seojoon holds his gaze, mouth slightly agape in utter disbelief.

The two men stare at one another on the empty road.

Finally, Seojoon exhales loudly before striding ahead at a pace much faster than before.

Hyungsik raises his eyebrows and looks after the stranger. He sets off at a jog, to catch up with him.

***

“So what should I call you?” Hyungsik asks, refusing to abandon hope of a conversation. “I mean, I’ve told you my name and you’ve already given me a _pet-name_ , so it’s only fair that I should know your name, right?” He smiles broadly.

They reach a bend in the road and Hyungsik, who is jogging backwards in front of Seojoon, suddenly loses his footing, one of his legs rapidly sliding down a steep decline in the terrain at the side of the road.

Seojoon steps over and grabs him by his coat, pulling him to his feet.

Hyungsik stares at him in stunned silence.

“My name’s Park Seojoon” he sighs.

***

After a long period of silent walking, this time at a more leisurely pace, the pair come to what appears to be a gravel track leaving the road.

“What do you think?” Hyungsik asks, “could lead to a house?”

Seojoon considers for a moment, looking up and down the road, “I suppose, we haven’t seen a single car since we started walking. I was hoping if we kept walking we could at least flag-down a car and ask them to give us a ride to the nearest town.”

Hyungsik studies him before replying, “admittedly, it’s a bit of gamble leaving the road but if there’s nothing up there we can just come back down and carry on along the road, right?” He shrugs, burying his nose inside his coat, as the bitter wind howls around them.

“You’re right” Seojoon concedes, “it’s worth a shot”.

***

As they ascend the gravel track, the little remaining light that there was, all but vanishes amongst the tall, dark trees and heavy snow starts to fall. The wind, now relentless and strong, seems to blow right through them.

Using the torches on their phones, they navigate the track ahead, as it continues to climb sharply into the woods.

“You’re quite an anxious person, aren’t you?” Hyungsik observes, raising his voice a little to be heard over the wind rushing through the trees. He can tell his companion would likely prefer not to talk, but he can’t bear the silence.

“I don’t travel well and I’m not much of an outdoorsman” Seojoon sighs, brow furrowed, “I just really want to get back to my parents’ house and more than anything: I would really rather not die of exposure on some small country lane.”

Hyungsik widens his eyes and mouths “wow” to himself in the darkness.

***

Finally, they reach a small building at the top of the track. Barely visible in the dark and tucked away in the trees, they can barely make out what appears to be some kind of a cabin, as thick snow flurries around them.

There are no lights coming from the cabin and no cars in sight.

Seojoon knocks on the door, before trying the handle, to no avail. He sighs to himself.

“Why is it always under the plant pots!” Hyungsik exclaims as he waves a key in front of Seojoon’s surprised yet relieved face.

“I’m sure the owner won’t mind since it’s an _emergency_ and all” he quips as he opens the cabin door.

The smell of dust hits them immediately.

They inspect the cabin in the dark, calling out, just in case someone is home. No one responds.

The cabin is small and seemingly long-neglected, but well-kept and modestly furnished. The door opens directly into an open-planned kitchen and living space, a breakfast bar separating the two areas in the far left-hand corner. To the left and at the front of the cabin is a small bedroom and tucked away at the back is a tiny bathroom.

Upon trying the switches, they establish there is no power and likely no heating, but there is a small fireplace along the far-left wall of the living space, opposite the small sofa and a low table. The bookshelves are bare but the kitchen cupboards are stocked with a reasonable supply of long-life, dried and instant foods. They quickly conclude that it must be someone’s holiday home.

By now, a heavy snow-storm is swirling outside, so they quickly decide that the best thing to do is to stay the night and weigh up their options in the morning.

Seojoon retrieves some logs from the small stack on the porch and he builds a fire in the fireplace.

Finding an oil lamp and a lighter in the small kitchen, Hyungsik joins Seojoon in front of the fire to get himself warm again.

“I can’t feel my toes,” Seojoon complains, as he sits down on the draughty wooden floor in front of the fire. “I’m really not cut out for this,” he laughs to himself.

Hyungsik regards his cabin-mate in the firelight. This is the first time he’s seen him smile since meeting him only an hour or so ago. He studies the creases that have appeared at the corner of his eyes and the small dimples that have revealed themselves in his cheeks. He watches him as he unlaces his boots, his long fingers shaking slightly from the cold.

Hyungsik looks away, blinking and rubs his eyes. He offers Seojoon an update of the cabin: “I found this oil lamp in the kitchen and there seems to be drinking water coming from the taps.” He places the hurricane lamp on the low table beside them. “Looks like we won’t be able to charge our phones then. Since there’s no power?” he realises, thinking out loud, “which I guess is no loss since there’s no signal here anyway.”

They both look at their phones instinctively, before reluctantly switching them off.

“How old are you?” Hyungsik asks as he removes his boots and stretches his legs towards the fire.

“32. You?” Seojoon grabs a blanket from the sofa and wraps it around his shoulders, shivering dramatically as he hunches closer to the fireplace.

“Ah, _hyung_! 29 and directionless!” Hyungsik laughs to himself as he too grabs a blanket and removes his hat which is dusted lightly in snow.

Seojoon betrays a smile again and nods, “same. I’m a writer.”

“A writer, huh?! Anything I might’ve heard of?”

“Er no – I doubt it.”

“Have you been published?”

“I actually have, but that was three years ago and I had to sell my stereo to pay for my electricity bill last month, so…” Seojoon rubs his eyes and pushes his fingers up into his hair, moving his palm back and forth on his forehead. He looks exhausted. He looks at Hyungsik and smiles awkwardly, “Not exactly what I had in mind for myself”

“But you love it, right? You’re doing what you love?”

“I am” he stares into the fire and nods, narrowing his eyes with the slightest hint of a smile.

“Then who cares about money. What _is_ success anyway? It’s successful to be happy.”

Seojoon studies him briefly, looking at his earnest expression and smiling eyes. “Maybe you could say that to my landlady,” he quips.

They both laugh.

***

“What time is it?” Seojoon asks as he yawns, looking up from his book and removing his glasses. The fire has died down to cinders.

“Good question” Hyungsik sits up from the floor and looks around the cabin, before his eyes settle on an ugly, cabin-chic, flocked-bear clock on the mantle. He stands up, collecting the clock from its home and presents it to Seojoon, “Well, according to the guardian-of-time here, it’s 11.35. You tired, old man?” he winks cheekily at him.

Seojoon tuts to himself, but his eyes betray his mild-amusement. “I am actually pretty tired,” he concedes.

Hyungsik surveys the cabin from the fireplace. He claps his hands and announces: “You should take the bed, old man. We don’t want you seizing up before we have to hike to the closest town tomorrow!” He smiles mischievously at Seojoon, who scrunches up his lips and furrows his brow, in mock-disgust.

“Thanks” Seojoon sarcastically replies, as he stands, gathers his bag, book and coat, and makes his way to the cabin’s only bedroom. He pauses as he reaches the door, watching Hyungsik leap onto the sofa and violently wrestle a blanket into submission. “Sleep well” he says quietly, before closing the bedroom door.

“You too” Hyungsik calls after him, smiling to himself and shaking his head.

**Hot Water**

The following morning, the men wake to discover the snow-storm still raging and worse than before.

The wind howls around the cabin, hammering the windows. Branches and debris are tossed around outside, threatening to burst through the windows uninvited at any moment.

The air inside the cabin is bitterly cold and there is no escaping a ubiquitous draught.

Seojoon starts the day by retrieving wood from the porch for the fire. “It’s scary out there” he proclaims, as the door slams shut behind him, “this is the last of the firewood, but I think there’s a log-shed close by.” He removes his coat and hangs it one of the hooks by the door, hopping from foot to foot and rubbing his upper arms to warm himself up.

“Rude of the owners not to leave more on the porch for us” Hyungsik jokes, as he fills the kettle and retrieves a couple of mugs from one of the cupboards. His hair is a misshapen mess, strands stuck-out at odd angles.

“I’m not sure how much hiking we should do today.” Seojoon says, removing his boots and crouching in front of the fireplace, scowling.

Hyungsik watches him stack the logs in the fireplace, pausing intermittently to blow on his hands and rub them together. “Maybe we could just hike up the mountain a little? Just enough to potentially get a signal on our phones?” he ventures.

“The wind is too strong and you can hardly see out there, with the snow. There’s debris flying everywhere. I think it’s too dangerous.” He frowns at the lighter as he struggles to ignite it.

Hyungsik settles on the sofa, as the stove behind them hisses underneath the kettle. He listens to him curse at the lighter, huffing and scowling to himself. “Are you always this grumpy?” he teases.

Seojoon wheels around to look at him, eyes-wide with disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Who wouldn’t be grumpy right now?! We’re stranded in the middle of nowhere, the weather is _unbelievable_ and we have no way to contact anyone!”

Hyungsik laughs, “wow you’re easy to wind-up.” He gets up from the sofa and crouches beside the fireplace, retrieving the lighter from Seojoon’s hand. He immediately ignites the lighter and holds it to the kindling in the fire, “Huh. First time.”

He looks back at Seojoon to find him staring at the now crackling fire, mouth agape. “We’ll be fine. We have plenty of food and this storm isn’t going to last forever. We’re not going to die here or anything.”

“Is that your version of a pep-talk?” Seojoon sarcastically asks, mouth still agape.

Ignoring his comment and not breaking eye-contact with him, Hyungsik continues, “The closest town must be, what, Yangpyeong? Once the weather clears, if we just keep walking west it shouldn’t be long before we can find a phone or get a signal”. He gestures in a direction he assumes to be west.

Seojoon raises his eyebrows, “West? To Yangpyeong? We passed it on the bus!”

“Pretty sure we didn’t.” Hyungsik asserts. 

“We did! It was roughly twenty minutes before your desperate need to empty your bladder!”

“Well, I don’t remember that.” Hyungsik responds dubiously, before finally breaking eye-contact with him and rubbing his eyes.

“You’re unbelievable.” Seojoon exclaims, staring at him, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, thanks!” Hyungsik grins as he pats Seojoon’s shoulder and gets up to address the now whistling kettle.

***

As the afternoon rolls around, the storm seems to get worse.

The two men have found ways to occupy their time including regularly checking their phones for signal and a dash to the nearby wood-shed which involved a long protracted argument over the best way to cart the logs to the porch, shouting at one another over the howling wind.

With a day’s worth of logs tucked away safely on the porch, they stumble through the door, trying to catch their breath as they pant heavily, water-vapour escaping their mouths.

“Ugh!” Seojoon sighs as he collapses on the sofa. Hyungsik sinks to the floor and begins to remove his boots, flailing his legs wildly as he does so.

“Hey, we should play a game” Hyungsik suggests as he nudges his boots off of his feet and onto the floor. He looks over to Seojoon, predicting an unenthusiastic reaction.

“We should make another fire and eat something.” Seojoon counters, looking at him with mild-amusement.

“And then play a game,” Hyungsik grins.

“What game are we going to play, exactly, in this cabin-of-wonders?” Seojoon sarcastically asks, gesturing with his hands at the empty shelves around them.

Hyungsik seats himself next to Seojoon on the sofa, turning to face him, “word association,” he proposes.

“What?” Seojoon frowns at him, but Hyungsik notices small creases at the corner of his eyes.

“Word association” Hyungsik repeats, “I say a word and you have to say the first word that comes to mind,” He gestures back-and forth between them both, with his index finger. “This is where we find out who we _really_ are” at this last sentence, he winks and gestures ‘finger-guns’ at his sceptical new friend.

Seojoon sighs and leans back on the sofa. “Fine” he surrenders, “Can we eat first though? I’m not sure I can do this on an empty stomach” he side-eyes Hyungsik.

Hyungsik returns a satisfied smile.

***

As they seat themselves at the small, low table in front of the fire, bowls of ramen steaming in their hands, Hyungsik doesn’t hesitate to throw out his first word: “dog!” he splutters with a grin.

Seojoon pauses before tentatively returning, “…Fluf-fy...?” 

“You’re thinking. You can’t think. Those are the rules.” Hyungsik insists, as he shoves noodles unceremoniously into his mouth, “Your turn”

“Er…” Seojoon looks desperately around him, his eyes settling on the fire, “wood.”

Hyungsik splutters broth on the table and looks up at Seojoon, eyebrow raised, mopping his mouth with his sleeve.

Seojoon pretends not to notice and busies himself with his ramen, “now who’s _thinking_?” he retorts.

Smiling and pleasantly surprised by the attempt at banter, Hyungsik suggests, “Okay. False Start. Let’s try again.” He mops the table and thinks for a moment. “Holiday” he says finally.

“Beach”

“Imaginative. I thought you were supposed to be a writer? Trousers.”

“Pressed. Feet”

“Hahaha what?!”

“I have no idea. Feet”

“Cold. Gross.”

“So we can say multiple words?” Seojoon protests.

“No. Ramen”

“Carcinogenic”

“Seriously?” Hyungsik gestures quizzically with his fork.

“You said no thinking and that was the first thing that came to mind. They’re full of E-numbers and MSG.” Seojoon slurps at his ramen, not looking up. “Er… Death”

Hyungsik ceases eating and looks at Seojoon. “You are just a ray of _sunshine_. I feel warm just being here with you.” He sweeps his arms towards himself, as though he’s basking in Seojoon’s figurative heat. “In fact, let’s conserve the fire wood, no need for the fire,” he waves dismissively in the direction of the fire.

“We were talking about carcinogens! I don’t know, it just popped in my head!” Seojoon cries.

“I don’t think we were _talking_ about carcinogens. You just decided that what this perilous situation needed was a cheerful reminder of our eventual demise” Hyungsik counters.

Seojoon raises his eyebrows, “what happened to: _We’ll be fine. We’re not going to die here or anything._ Perilous now, is it?”

Hyungsik raises his index to his mouth, silently shushing him.

Seojoon smiles to himself as he tips the last of his broth into his mouth.

***

That evening, after realising that there is no hot water supply, they decide to attempt to fill the free-standing bath, using the kettle and several pans.

The bath is a horror-show of mould and grime, so first they scrub it thoroughly, removing as much of the detritus as possible, trying to negotiate themselves around the tiny bathroom. The kettle and three pans sit on the stove.

“How many do you think it’ll take to fill it?” Seojoon asks, as he takes a break from cleaning, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

Hyungsik glances at the bath, “a lot.”

They both exhale, raising their eyebrows at one another.

“Are we going to be able to do this?” Hyungsik wonders.

“The water takes so long to boil that I don’t know how hot it’ll be by the time we fill it. It’s so cold in here!” Seojoon sits on the edge of the bath and looks at the floor, hunching his shoulders forward.

“We’ll have to share, for sure,” Hyungsik says, before widening his eyes in a panic and adding, “the water. Share the bath water.”

“Right.” Seojoon responds, rubbing his chin awkwardly.

The kettle whistles.

***

After twenty minutes or so, the bath is filled half-way with hot water.

“I think this is the best we’re going to get,” Seojoon sighs, “if we try to fill it anymore, it’ll go cold.”

Hyungsik runs his fingers through the hot water, “Who first?” he asks.

“You can go first,” Seojoon offers, gesturing to the bath and then turning to leave.

“I’ll be quick,” Hyungsik calls after him.

He shuts the bathroom door and begins to undress, shivering as he removes his socks and then his shirt.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees something moving along the floor and lets out a loud shriek.

Seojoon comes bursting into the bathroom, “what happened?!” he asks, with alarm.

“I don’t know! I just saw something on the floor!” Hyungsik gasps, looking around frantically.

They both stand perfectly still, surveying the floor of the bathroom.

“There!” Seojoon shouts suddenly, pointing underneath the free-standing bath, as a slender, pale snake slithers towards Hyungsik’s feet.

They both shriek and run out of the bathroom, Seojoon pulling the door shut behind them.

They stare stunned at one another, huddled in the narrow area outside of the bathroom door.

Hyungsik suddenly remembers he’s shirtless and crosses his arms over his chest, shivering.

Seojoon heads to the kitchen and starts pulling open cupboards, “we need a bucket or something,” he mutters.

“I feel that now is a good time for me to tell you that I’m completely terrified of snakes.” Hyungsik explains, anxiously, reaching for another cupboard and looking inside.

Seojoon looks at him, “I don’t much like them either, but I’ll do my best.” He observes the goose-bumps on Hyungsik’s long, muscular arms. Then, looking past him he sees a large mixing bowl in the cupboard, “that might work!” he says, reaching past Hyungsik to grab it.

He strides back to the bathroom door, inhaling deeply before slowly opening it. There’s no sign of the snake. Hyungsik appears behind him, clutching a small iron skillet.

“It must’ve gone back behind the bath” Seojoon presumes.

Staring intently at the bottom of the bath, Hyungsik moves slowly past Seojoon and crouches over his small pile of clothes.

He begins lifting his shirt from the floor, as the snake curls slowly out from one of the sleeves.

He shrieks loudly and hurls himself in the direction of the bathroom door, colliding with Seojoon and sending them both to the floor.

Seojoon struggles to control Hyungsik’s flailing limbs as he turns his head to avoid the skillet hurtling towards his face. 

“Calm down!” he struggles to say, grabbing Hyungsik’s forearms. 

He pushes Hyungsik off of him and scoots backwards along the floor, as Hyungsik attempts to get to his feet while also trying to run, tripping with each step. 

Hyungsik grabs Seojoon’s shirt and drags him out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut again.

They stand in the narrow area outside of the bathroom, breathing heavily. Hyungsik, traumatised and sorrowfully still shirtless. 

Seojoon raises a hand to his forehead.

“I think it touched my foot!” Hyungsik whimpers.

“So… How about: you let me try to deal with the snake?” Seojoon bends forward, hands resting on his thighs, leaning towards Hyungsik to meet his gaze.

Hyungsik looks back at him looking haunted, “okay” he concedes finally, “but can you get my shirt out of there, please?”

Seojoon blinks at him, “your shirt?”

“Please.” Hyungsik shivers.

“Right.” Seojoon nods slowly, before looking at the bathroom door. “I’m going back in and you don’t need to come with me, okay? I’ll get your shirt,” he nods at Hyungsik, looking for confirmation from him.

“Okay,” he whispers.

Seojoon slowly opens the bathroom door and creeps inside, before closing it behind him.

Hyungsik perches on the edge of the sofa, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and shivering. Several minutes pass, as he chews at one of his nails, nervously.

There’s a thud at the wall separating the kitchen from the bathroom and a loud clatter.

Moments later, Seojoon rushes out of the bathroom, looking horrified, carrying ahead of him with both hands the mixing bowl with Hyungsik’s shirt draped over it.

“Get the door!” he shrieks at Hyungsik, who can see movement under his shirt.

Hyungsik darts to the door and opens it just in time for Seojoon to fling the mixing bowl and it’s contents out into the stormy night.

Snow flurries into the cabin and Seojoon slams the door shut. He looks at Hyungsik, still slightly shell-shocked and Hyungsik looks back at him anguished.

“My shirt,” he whimpers.

“Sorry!” Seojoon apologises, “I’ll find it for you tomorrow.”

Hyungsik pulls the blanket tight around him looking at his bare feet, “it’s the only shirt I have with me,” he says quietly.

Seojoon stares at him, mouth agape.

“I was only in Seoul for the day,” he explains.

Seojoon looks away, blinking. After a moment, he heads to the bedroom and comes back clutching a blue knitted sweater and a shirt.

“Why didn’t you say so?” he says softly, handing Hyungsik his clothes.

**Mega-Boots**

The following morning, Seojoon wakes to the sound of wind hammering on the outside wall of the cabin bedroom.

He rubs his eyes and reaches out to his phone which is nestled in the sheets next to him. He turns it on and checks the screen: 5.24am, 20th December. He lets the phone fall back to the mattress and buries his face in a pillow.

This will be their second day here, he realises. He thinks about his parents and pictures his mother crying in anguish, fearing the worst for him. He picks up his phone again and checks for a signal: no bars.

He sits up in bed and stretches. He’s wide awake now and acutely aware of how full his bladder is.

Getting out of bed soundlessly, he creeps along the floor as quietly as possible, sticking to the rugs and avoiding the creaky floor-boards. He slowly opens the door and steps out into the kitchen.

Eyes still adjusting to the darkness, he sees a tall, dark figure seemingly looming over him by the kitchen window.

“Ahhhhh!” he hollers, as Hyungsik turns quickly and does the same.

“Oh my fucking God!” Hyungsik whispers, clutching his chest.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Seojoon shrieks.

Recovering his breath, Hyungsik leans against the kitchen counter, “I was looking out the window,” he points to where he was stood. “I couldn’t sleep, the wind is so loud. I’m freezing too,” he complains, rubbing his upper arms.

Seojoon studies him in the dim light. He can see that in addition to wearing Seojoon’s sweater, he is also wearing his hat, scarf and coat.

“You can have my blanket tonight,” he offers, “I’ll be okay with the sheets.”

Hyungsik waves dismissively with both hands and protests, “no it’s okay – I’ll be fine!” He turns to the sink and begins filling the kettle, “tea?” he asks.

“Okay, thanks,” Seojoon smiles, before remembering the pressure in his bladder. He runs to the bathroom.

***

The two men spend the rest of the morning, fetching more firewood from the log shed and retrieving Hyungsik’s shirt from the deep snow. It was a little while before they found it, partially buried in a hedge.

They eat a lunch consisting of dried fruit, nuts and crisps, being careful to save the ramen and other instant meals for the evening.

After complaining to each other about the cold, Seojoon offers Hyungsik several pairs of the socks he had packed, so they each wrestle 5 pairs of socks onto their feet and Hyungsik decides they’re called ‘Mega-Boots’. Seojoon laughs.

***

By the time evening rolls around, Seojoon is sprawled out on the sofa, his head in his book again, glasses perched on his nose. The only sounds that can be heard is the storm still raging outside.

Hyungsik switches off his phone and stretches his chest and arms dramatically over the small table beside the fire. “No signal.”

“Be sure to update me as the situation changes” Seojoon mutters.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more bored. Did you know that there are six hundred and forty-two wooden panels in this room?”

“You’re like a child. Don’t you know how to amuse yourself?”

“Yes. I do. With the INTERNET. TV. Games.” He sidles up to the side of the sofa, leaning near Seojoon’s feet.

Seojoon stares at him, “What do you want me to do? I’m reading.”

“You know, there’s soju in the kitchen”

Seojoon gasps in mock-surprise and then returns his attention to his book.

“I’m freezing and bored. At least drinking might make the time pass-by quicker with the added bonus of warming us up!” he shakes Seojoon’s legs.

“I’m not drinking with you.”

“I can’t drink alone!”

“Oh no you can’t!” he gasps with mock-concern, “So don’t drink.”

“Are you scared or something?”

“Are you seriously trying to use peer-pressure on me?”

“Come on! I promise to do the next firewood run, by myself!” he jabs one of Seojoon’s feet with his index finger, and grins widely at him, offering his trademark finger-guns.

Seojoon lets his book fall on his face and sighs, “fine, but I can’t drink too much. I don’t really handle my drink all that well.” he grumbles through his book.

Hyungsik springs to his feet and marches into the kitchen, retrieving two bottles of soju and some glasses.

“You won’t regret this. Just _watch_ the hours fly-by. Let’s play a get-to-know-you game while we drink.”

“What does that entail?” Seojoon winces as he drags himself off of the sofa and reluctantly makes his way to the breakfast bar where Hyungsik is pouring their first drinks.

“We ask each other questions. Anything we want to know about one another, and we _have_ to answer them. Nothing is off limits”

“Perfect. Why _not?_ ”

Hyungsik grasps one of his cheeks and teases “you’re going to _love_ it.”

Seojoon slaps his hand away and sniffs his glass of soju before tilting his head to the side and drinking the shot in one gulp.

Disbelief turns into admiration, as Hyungsik cries “OKAY!” and tips back his own shot, into his mouth.

***

It’s 10pm. Four empty bottles stand on the kitchen counter. The windows are rattling in their frames as the wind and snow batters the cabin. The neglected fire is now ash. The two men, bundled under their own blankets, either side of the breakfast bar, finish wailing the last bars of a terrible 90s pop song.

“That was a classic”

“Yeah and you know the singer got arrested three years later for trying to steal a bag” Seojoon slurs.

Hyungsik spits soju on the counter, “that’s so dumb,” he laughs.

“He was always an idiot though wasn’t he?” Seojoon smiles.

“I thought he was so cute when I was younger”

Seojoon screws his face up and exclaims “with that hair?!”

“I don’t know. It worked for me at the time” Hyungsik shrugs and idly rolls his glass on the counter. “More?” he asks, shaking another unopened bottle.

“Sure. This is the last one though.” Seojoon wags a finger in the bartenders face.

“Okay my turn: what do you think about Christmas, Mr. Grinch?” Hyungsik chuckles as he pours them both another glass.

“Commercial. Bull shit.” Seojoon proclaims as he raises his glass before knocking it back.

“I am shocked.” Hyungsik rolls his eyes.

“What and you love it?”

Hyungsik looks serious for a moment and then smiles back at him, “I do actually. My sister and I have our traditions and it’s just a nice reminder to spend time with family”

“Aish!” Seojoon hisses. “You don’t have _my_ family. My brother is super-annoying and after the fourth round of charades with them, you’d be clambering for the door. Although knowing you, you’d probably love it.”

“Yeah, it sounds great, to be honest!” Hyungsik laughs.

“I’ll be sure to introduce you if we ever get home”

“Deal. What’s your biggest fear?”

“Musk deer”

Hyungsik falls to the floor laughing. “Whaaaaat?!” he asks between cackles.

Seojoon sips at his soju with the air of a war veteran, shivers and pulls his blanket up around his shoulders. “When I was a kid, my Uncle told me that they really suck blood with those fangs of theirs. I guess it stuck with me.” He looks at Hyungsik, as he returns to his stool, “do they not freak you out?”

“Umm, no” Hyungsik laughs, “they’re cute”

“Cute?! That word again! You know you really have bad taste.”

“You might be right about that,” Hyungsik agrees, looking down at his glass.

Seojoon watches him take another sip. He gazes at his face in the lamp light. He wonders what he’s thinking. “I’ve just realised that you took my turn!” he protests, “same question to you: worst fear”

Hyungsik fidgets on his stool uncomfortably.

“ _Nothing is off limits_ ” Seojoon reminds him, doing his best impression of Hyungsik’s earlier words and drumming his hands on the counter.

Hyungsik looks into the bottom of his glass. He looks stricken.

“Losing those I love” he surrenders quietly, before taking another sip.

Seojoon stares at him for a moment, his drunken haze impairing his ability to read his drinking companion properly. Deciding he’s serious, he meets his gaze, with a sympathetic expression.

Hyungsik continues, “my parents died when I was thirteen. A freak car accident,” he shrugs, sadly, suddenly appearing older than before. “I guess it’s taught me not to take people for granted,” he stares at his hands before laughing bitterly to himself. “Of course that _does_ mean that I don’t know when to let go when I _should_ ”

Seojoon quietly listens, frozen, leaning against the counter.

“I just split up with my boyfriend. Literally the morning that I got on the bus to Pyeongchang. We’d been friends since we were kids and he was there the day I found out about the accident. He really helped me through it. It felt sort of natural when we started dating years later, but we were never really a good match,” he pauses to wipe his nose with his sleeve, “he’s a cop now - in Seoul,” he nods. “We just _tore one another apart_ and made each other so miserable. I should’ve ended it _years_ ago, but I just… couldn’t let go,” he coughs and rubs his eyes. “I told him: I’m a coward. I was so afraid to let go, so I just carried on… pretending. I’m such a fucking coward” Hyungsik rests his face in his hands, elbows resting on the counter. 

A few minutes pass between them, in silence.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” Seojoon holds his hands to his chest, apologetically. “All those jokes I was making, about death and family. God, I’m such an idiot! I am so sorry, Hyungsik”

Momentarily, disarmed by the informal speech, Hyungsik meets his eyes. “Honestly, don’t worry about it”

Seojoon pours them both another drink. “If you’re a coward, I don’t know what that makes me. Everything you’ve been through…” he sighs and takes a sip of his drink. “You know; I’ve never even been in love? Too scared” he scoffs with disgust at himself.

“Never?”

“Never.”

A loud clatter breaks their gaze as they look outside. The wind is hammering the cabin with snow and debris, with the odd tree branch scraping along the window.

Hyungsik tips back the last of his drink “that’s the last of that bottle. Call it a night?”

Seojoon nods but studies his face.

“Do you feel warmer? I think I might be colder than before! Look! You can see my breath!” Hyungsik huffs loudly as water-vapour puffs out of his mouth. He stands up from the counter, stretching, then begins to make his way to the sofa.

Seojoon considers him for a moment before saying: “This is ridiculous. You can’t sleep out here in this big, cold room. You’re going to get sick. We should just share the bed. With the door shut it’ll probably be quite warm.” He gestures to the bedroom door, looking bashful and blushing slightly.

Sensing his discomfort, Hyungsik resists the temptation to make a joke about the situation. “Sure” he replies, shuffling into the bedroom.

***

It’s 2am.

Hyungsik is breathing heavily, sleeping deeply beside Seojoon.

Seojoon, wide awake, studies his face from his side of the bed.

He can see the line of his jaw in the low light from outside. The curve of his lips, his delicate nose, his almost elven-like ears, which jut out from his head at a slight angle. His long, black eye lashes, his thick, tousled hair.

Try as he might, he just can’t sleep.

***

It’s 4.30am.

A sudden rattle of the window wakes Hyungsik.

He opens his eyes to see Seojoon sleeping opposite him, bundled up in the blankets. Feeling painfully sober, he suddenly has a pang of regret about his earlier confession and wonders what Seojoon must think of him.

He watches Seojoon’s chest rise and fall and listens to his quiet breathing.

Without warning, Seojoon turns in his sleep, resting his face on Hyungsik’s pillow, inches from Hyungsik’s face. Hyungsik smiles to himself, imagining how he might react to this situation were he awake. He stares at his face. He observes his long, dark eyebrows which frame his face perfectly, his slender nose and his deep-red lips.

 _He really is breathtakingly handsome_ , he thinks. 

**The Light**

The next day, feeling a little worse for wear, the two men sleep until late morning.

When they eventually wake, the cabin is so dark that they think they’ve slept through until the evening. Thick, dark storm clouds loom in the sky and the snow is so thick they can’t see a thing out of the windows.

They check their phones despite knowing what they’ll find and switch them off again to conserve battery power.

They retrieve firewood together, helping each other in battling the elements.

Neither of them mention hiking. The snow is now nearly as high as the porch.

***

With the fire now crackling, Hyungsik settles back onto the sofa with a hot drink in hand.

“Did you still want to read this?” Seojoon asks from his end of the sofa, holding his book out to him. “I thought it was actually really good in the end.”

“Definitely. I would read an Ikea catalogue right now.” Hyungsik quips.

“I feel really bad for you. I don’t know how you’ve kept yourself occupied all this time. I don’t know what to do with myself now.”

Hyungsik thinks for a minute and then rushes into the bedroom. When he returns, he’s clutching crumpled papers and a thin black pen.

“I’m scared to ask” Seojoon eyes him suspiciously, with a small smile, as he sits back down on the sofa.

Smoothing out the most crumpled sheet, which upon closer inspection appears to be a series of bills, blank on one side, Hyungsik gathers the paper and pen in one hand and passes them to Seojoon. “Write” he suggests.

Seojoon laughs, “thanks. I don’t know if I’d be able to though, to be honest.”

“Why not?”

“Lack of inspiration. Lack of music.”

“You need music to write? If I had my guitar, I’d play for you.”

“You play guitar?”

“Penniless musician, at your service” Hyungsik waves his right hand in small circles, gesturing a mock-bow.

“You know there’s one under the bed?” Seojoon laughs.

“Are you kidding me? What? Why didn’t you mention it before?!” Hyungsik exclaims, sitting up.

Seojoon shrugs, “I don’t know really. I didn’t think it mattered much.”

Hyungsik bellows in his best operatic voice “LET ME PLAY FOR YOUUUUUUU!”

“Something tells me I’m going to regret mentioning this to you,” Seojoon says, side-eyes him again, with a half-smile.

A few minutes later, Hyungsik is sprawled out on the sofa, feet on the armrest. He strums the guitar gently, playing a quiet song, with a hint of minor chords. It’s a sweet tune.

Seojoon crouches over the low table by the fire, writing on the crumpled sheets of paper, stopping to rest his back against the sofa and push his glasses back up his nose.

Neither of them speak for several hours.

***

Seojoon wakes to find himself resting on the low table. It’s dark and the fire has burned down completely.

He lifts his head off of the table, feeling his neck twinge in protest. He stretches his arms and makes circles with his head, easing his muscles out of their cramped position. He turns to look at the sofa and sees Hyungsik fast asleep, the guitar still in his arms.

Seojoon smiles to himself.

He slowly reaches for the guitar, attempting to gently release it from Hyungsik’s arms. His hand brushes Hyungsik’s hand. His skin feels cold. He props the guitar against the arm of the sofa and then crouches beside him.

Contemplating whether to wake him or wrap him in blankets, he watches him breathe, slow, deep breaths.

He decides that they’ll both freeze if he leaves him there, so Seojoon reaches out to his arm and gently shakes him. Hyungsik doesn’t even stir.

“Hyungsik,” Seojoon whispers. He squeezes his arm slightly. “Hyungsik.”

Hyungsik’s eyelashes flutter and then he opens his eyes, turning to look at Seojoon with a dazed expression.

“We fell asleep,” Seojoon explains, “it’s freezing out here,” letting go of his arm.

Sitting up slowly, Hyungsik groans as he rubs the small of his back, “Uhhh… I don’t know how I slept on this sofa before!”

“You’re an old man too now,” Seojoon jokes quietly.

Hyungsik swings his legs round and looks at the scattered pages on the table. “Did you write much?” he asks.

“I had some ideas,” Seojoon nods as he gathers the sheets and folds them in half and then in half again and tucks them into one of his trouser pockets.

They both turn in for the night.

***

It’s 1.30am.

Hyungsik wakes with a shiver. He finds himself at the edge of the bed, blankets behind him, partially draped around Seojoon. He slowly sits up and tentatively places his bare feet on the freezing cold floor, with a sharp intake of breath as he winces.

He creeps to the bathroom and fetches a glass of water from the kitchen.

As he inches his way back across the bedroom, heading to his side of the bed, his feet make contact with something in the darkness. He reaches down, feeling for the object and he finds a small bundle of tightly folded paper. Curious, he switches on his phone and with the low light of the screen, he inspects the paper. He recognises his own bills and immediately realises what he’s holding.

He looks in the direction of Seojoon. He can hear him breathing steadily. _I’m sure he wouldn’t mind_ , Hyungsik thinks to himself.

He slowly climbs back into bed and lying on his stomach, he props himself up, resting on his elbows and carefully unfolds the sheets of paper. Using the light from his phone, he peers at the words on the page.

_The Man is a bright light._

_To everyone around him, he’s a beacon, a hearth, a blanket, a hot-spring._

_He invites them in, securing them in his warmth._

_The man laughs, he sings, he spins sweet music around them._

_He assures them they are safe, they are loved. He is their harbour in a storm._

_He shields them from the cold, a bitter cold that only he can feel._

_For the man has a secret, his heart is full of sorrow._

_The sorrow is like a shard of ice. He carries it with him and buries it deep._

_He knows he must keep it warm or he may freeze._

_If only the man knew that his heart is his light._

_The shard of ice would melt, if he would only let it shine._

Before he realises it, Hyungsik has hot tears running down his cheeks. His eyes sting and he fights the urge to sob. He sniffs and wipes his nose with his hand.

He glances at Seojoon, only to realise he’s wide awake, his big eyes watching him in the darkness.

Hyungsik wipes his cheeks and asks, “is this me?”

Seojoon slowly shifts on the bed, moving closer to him, so he can see his face in the low light from Hyungsik’s phone. “Yes,” he replies, swallowing nervously.

Feeling overwhelmed by his own emotions, Hyungsik rests his face in his hands as more hot tears fill his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Seojoon whispers.

Hyungsik re-folds the pages and places them on the table next to him. He rests his phone on the mattress, face up and still glowing softly.

He lowers his head onto his pillow and turns on his side to face Seojoon. “Why are you sorry?” he asks quietly.

“I had no right to write about you.” Seojoon says, regretfully, “to make assumptions… I hardly know you.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between them.

“It’s beautiful,” Hyungsik says finally, with a whisper, “the way you see me.” Tears continue to fall from his eyes and struggling to see, he raises one of his hands to wipe them away.

Seojoon reaches out to him, stopping his hand before it reaches his face. Hyungsik feels a lump in his throat.

Clutching Hyungsik’s hand, Seojoon gently sweeps his thumb along his cheek, brushing a tear away. 

They look into one another’s eyes.

Noticing Hyungsik shiver, Seojoon pulls the blankets up around Hyungsik’s shoulder, finally resting his hand on the back of Hyungsik’s neck, stroking his hair.

Hyungsik can feel his heart racing in his chest.

Gently pulling Hyungsik towards him, Seojoon eases himself closer.

He leans forward slowly, closing his eyes.

He kisses Hyungsik – a tender and cautious first kiss, lips parting slightly. His lips feel warm and soft and Hyungsik feels a wave of heat pass over him.

Pulling away, Seojoon blinks rapidly in the low light, suddenly looking afraid that he may have misread things between them.

Seeing Seojoon’s uncertain expression, Hyungsik realises to himself, _he doesn’t know what this means to me_ . _He has no idea how I feel._

Overcome with a potent mix of emotions, Hyungsik lunges forward to kiss him, grasping his face in his hands. He kisses him deeply, hot tears pressing onto Seojoon’s cheeks.

Taking a few seconds to react, Seojoon begins to return the kiss, slowly wrapping his arms around Hyungsik’s waist and resting his hands on the small of his back, holding him, tenderly at first and then pulling him closer.

They kiss, hearts racing, tongues softly touching.

Hyungsik moves his left hand into Seojoon’s hair, running his fingers through the soft, thick strands at the side of his head. His right hand moves to his back and he slowly rolls them both, so that he is on top of him, placing his palm down on the bed next to Seojoon’s head.

Seojoon eases himself up, so the crook of his neck is resting on his pillow and moves his hands up Hyungsik’s back, sliding his shirt up and then tugging at it gently.

Their lips part and they hurriedly remove their clothes before sinking into another kiss, grasping at one another hungrily, losing themselves in each other’s arms.

**Connection Established**

Seojoon is the first to wake. It takes a moment for his eyes to focus, as he adjusts to consciousness.

Before him, he can see Hyungsik’s ear, the soft skin of his neck and his hair which is all askew. His left arm is wrapped around Hyungsik’s chest and his hand is clasped in Hyungsik’s right hand.

Remembering their night together, Seojoon closes his eyes and feels his face grow hot. _He’s incredible_ , he thinks to himself, biting his lip.

He shifts carefully forward in the bed, careful not to wake Hyungsik, bringing himself closer to him and buries his face in the back of his neck and hair, closing his eyes again.

He can tell it’s very early in the morning, possibly even the very early hours, but he’s wide awake.

With Hyungsik fast asleep and the silence of the room, his mind starts to process everything that has happened over the last four days.

 _I met him four days ago_ , he reminds himself again.

_How is it possible to feel like this after such a brief time?_

_How can he possibly feel the same?_

_He’s just gotten out of a relationship._

_I’m older than him._

_With everything he’s been through, what if last night was just a reaction to what I wrote about him._

_Did I unintentionally manipulate him?_

He starts to feel sick.

 _This is too much_ , he panics, _this is my fault_.

_I don’t want to hurt him._

_I don’t want to get hurt._

Feeling overwhelmed, he slowly releases Hyungsik’s hand and eases himself away from him, rolling over to face the bedroom wall.

He lies awake for several hours before eventually falling asleep.

***

When Hyungsik wakes, he finds himself alone on his side of the bed. He’s naked and cold, the blankets only partially covering him.

He shivers, rubbing his feet together and rolls over. He can see Seojoon with his back to him, wrapped in the bed sheet.

Hyungsik slides over to him bringing both of the blankets with him. He wraps his right arm around him, tucking the blankets under his left shoulder and ensuring they’re both covered. He kisses the back of his neck.

Seojoon stirs and finding Hyungsik’s hand by his chest, he gives it a little squeeze. He slowly rolls over to face him.

“Morning,” Hyungsik says quietly. Seojoon smiles, looking down, small creases at his eyes.

Seojoon starts to stretch and sit up but Hyungsik pulls him back, wrapping his arms around his back. He kisses him as Seojoon groans. “I’ve probably got morning-breath”, Seojoon protests.

“So. So have I, probably.” Hyungsik replies.

Seojoon puts his head in his hands and groans again. Hyungsik pulls him closer despite the obvious protest and rests his chin on Seojoon’s head. “You’ve got good hair” he proclaims.

Seojoon groans again, before looking up at him “it’s a mess. I never know what to do with it.” He grumbles.

Hyungsik rolls his eyes, “You’re exhausting. You really have no idea how cute you are, do you?”

“Pffft” Seojoon huffs and smooths his hair down, bashfully. “We should check our phones” he adds awkwardly, blushing in Hyungsik’s gaze.

“Umm… sure…” Hyungsik laughs slightly as he releases Seojoon from his arms and sits up in bed. “Let me just locate my clothes first” he grins.

Seojoon buries his head in a pillow and pulls another over him.

***

“Rice?” Hyungsik offers as he busies himself in the kitchen.

Seojoon nods and settles himself on a stool at the breakfast bar.

“You okay?” Hyungsik asks, noticing a distinctly serious expression on Seojoon’s face.

“Yeah I’m fine. Sorry. Was just thinking”

“What about?”

“I don’t know. I think I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep much last night…” his voice trails off as he realises what he’s saying. His cheeks turn a vibrant shade of crimson.

Hyungsik turns his attention back to breakfast and smiles to himself. “Why don’t you go back to bed? It’s not like we have to be anywhere. It’s still a nightmare, winter-wonderland out there.”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

They eat breakfast with very few words between them. Hyungsik tries to start conversations only to be met with single word answers and strained smiles. He can tell something is bothering him.

After stacking the dishes in the sink, Hyungsik walks over to where Seojoon is sitting and grasps his hand which was resting on his leg. “Are we okay? I mean, you don’t regret anything do you?”

Seojoon lowers his head, after a brief pause he raises his head again, resting his gaze on the kitchen counter. “Do you?” he asks, looking very tense.

Hyungsik squeezes his hand. “No. Not a moment of it. Especially not that large tea I drank back at the bus station!” He laughs and starts to raise his fingers at him as guns, before realising Seojoon’s brow is now furrowed.

“You know, you don’t have to make a joke out of everything” he says, his voice rising slightly.

“I’m sorry, but I’m lost here. Did I do something to upset you?” Hyungsik flounders.

“We’ve known each other, what, six days? We have this weird experience of being stranded together and now we’re… what? I mean, you must’ve been with your ex for a while. You _just_ _broke up with him_ ” Seojoon’s jaw tightens as he looks at the floor.

Hyungsik lets go of his hand and steps back. “Eight years. I was with him for eight years.” He whispers.

“Four days later…” Seojoon mutters. “I’ve heard of rebounds but this must surely be a record somewhere. Especially the story behind the whole sordid thing – I mean, I couldn’t have written this stuff. Stranded in a cabin in a snowstorm. There’s only one bed.”

“Are you accusing me of something?!” Hyungsik snaps. “You can’t possibly believe I planned all of this, hoping to ensnare some random unsuspecting bus-passenger to satiate my uncontrollable need to fuck a stranger, post break-up”

Seojoon just looks at him, stunned. He blinks twice and looks away.

There’s a long protracted silence.

Finally, Hyungsik strides over to the cabin door and begins putting his boots on.

“Where are you going?” Seojoon asks quietly.

“If that’s really how you feel about me, if that’s really what you think. Then I’m done. I’m going to try to get a signal. We have to get out of here.” He yanks his coat from the hooks and abruptly heads outside.

The cabin door slams shut.

***

Sitting alone on the sofa, Seojoon stares at the clock again. It’s been half an hour since Hyungsik left. Seojoon buries his head in his hands and tugs at his own hair. “So fucking stupid!” he shouts into the empty cabin, “I’m so fucking stupid”.

The wind howls outside.

Pangs of regret and sorrow hit him in the chest and he feels himself getting a headache. Waves of nausea pass over him.

_What was I thinking?! Why did I say that to him?! He could be hurt. He could die._

Nervous energy threatening to burst out of him, unable to keep his legs still, he stands up and starts to put his boots and coat on.

***

Outside the cabin is worse than he imagined. He can barely see ahead of him. Panic begins to set in as he realises he has no idea which direction Hyungsik went. The snow would’ve covered any tracks he left behind. He could be anywhere. He could’ve fallen or be completely lost.

 _Think_ , he orders himself.

He decides to head uphill, remembering that they had discussed finding higher-ground for a signal. Pulling out his phone he quickly finds his compass app, and establishes a plan to head South-West in a straight line and to not deviate, hoping he’ll find his way back.

He calls out, despite the fact that he knows he likely won’t be heard over the wind, “HYUNGSIK! HYUNGSIK!”

After what feels like forever, his legs aching and hands burning from the blistering cold, he stumbles into a clearing in the woods. To his horror, he finds five Musk Deer, waiting for him, like some cosmic punishment. This was everything he feared about venturing out.

He recalls the drunken night with Hyungsik. How he laughed and fell to the floor upon hearing Seojoon’s confession. He feels the weight of regret and wipes a tear from his eyes.

He steels himself and presses forward, relief sweeping over him as the deer begin to scatter.

Through the clearing and a small line of trees, he reaches the edge of the woods and finds himself at a steep cliff edge.

Hyungsik is standing there, looking out over the edge.

***

“What are you doing?” Seojoon shouts as he strides towards him.

He grabs his coat and pulls him back away from the cliff edge. “How could you leave like that?! You could’ve died out here?!” he cries.

Hyungsik removes Seojoon’s hand from his coat and angrily shoves him. “I can’t believe you think this is some kind of rebound” he shouts back, “that you really think that I would just do that. After everything I told you about myself and my life!”

Seojoon can see he’s been crying and he looks pale in the cold, his lips a little blue.

“I was worried about you! You’ve been gone for so long!” Seojoon continues, brow knitted.

He stops to catch his breath, relief rushing over him.

“I’m so sorry, Hyungsik,” he calls, “ _o_ _f course_ , I don’t think that about you”. He takes a deep breath and continues, “I’ve just… never done this before. I freaked out.”

He tentatively pulls Hyungsik towards him, slowly wrapping his arms around him, resting his head on his shoulder, burying his face is his neck “I’m so sorry, Hyungsik” he whispers “I’m an idiot”.

Hyungsik relaxes into Seojoon’s arms and returns the hug, squeezing him gently.

They kiss with tears in their eyes.

Neither of them notice, Hyungsik’s phone establish a connection for the briefest moment and flash: MESSAGE SENT.

***

The lovers trek back to the cabin, Seojoon taking the lead with the compass on his phone and his trajectory. They steady one another as they fight against the wind tearing up the mountain.

***

Once inside the cabin, Seojoon immediately insists that Hyungsik lies on the sofa while he fetches wood and makes a fire. He bundles him up in the blankets and sheets and climbs over the back of the sofa to position himself behind Hyungsik, wrapping his arms and legs around him.

Hyungsik lets out a laugh.

“We need to get you warm!” Seojoon protests, “your lips are almost blue!”

“I’m fine!” Hyungsik assures him, as he shivers violently.

Seojoon rubs his left hand up and down Hyungsik’s forearm and buries his head in his neck, breathing warm air onto his bare skin.

Hyungsik laughs again, “that really tickles!”

“Oh sorry!” Seojoon says with a guffaw, “shall we move the sofa closer to the fire?”

Hyungsik thinks for a moment and then replies, “yeah okay!”

They both leap up and negotiate the low table over to the bathroom door and then shift the small sofa closer to the fire.

“Oh my god, this is better!” Hyungsik exclaims lying back on the sofa.

Seojoon hesitates before joining him, biting his lip and then climbs on top of him, bringing the blankets and sheets with him.

Hyungsik looks at him, “definitely feeling warmer now” he says quietly, looking at his face, his lips.

“I need to say something.” Seojoon says, suddenly serious.

“Okay…” Hyungsik responds, looking concerned.

“I absolutely didn’t mean what I said earlier and I’m still so sorry about that” Seojoon says.

“I know.” Hyungsik replies, softly.

Seojoon hesitates and inhales deeply, “I did freak out and as you know, this is all new to me.”

“It’s okay.” Hyungsik whispers, reaching up to touch his face.

Seojoon clasps Hyungsik’s hand and brings it to his chest, looking down at it. “I guess… I was worried that I… manipulated you?” he offers, hesitantly.

“What?!” Hyungsik laughs before remembering their previous misunderstanding. He quickly follows it up with: “you didn’t manipulate me,” he assures him, trying to meet his gaze.

Seojoon looks at him, “what I wrote, how it… affected you. I don’t know… There’s a lot to be anxious about… this situation…” he looks away again.

Hyungsik gazes at him in the firelight. “Seojoon,” he says, finally. “I completely understand why you’re worried. Having known you for four days and seen you fret your way through everything we’ve experienced so far – I know it’s in your nature to worry.”

Seojoon smiles, looking down at their clasped hands.

Hyungsik continues, “I’m glad you’re telling me this. This is… a lot. It would be for anyone. But I want this, whatever this is.”

Blinking, Seojoon meets his gaze. He hesitates before saying, “Is it possible… I mean… What if… God! I don’t know how to say this without sounding condescending!” he screws his face up.

“Just say it!” Hyungsik exclaims with a small smile, “I promise not to take it the wrong way.”

“What if you’re confused? You just got out of a relationship and that must be a lot to process?” Seojoon suggests, looking concerned.

Hyungsik leans forward and kisses his forehead, then pulls Seojoon down onto him, embracing him in a hug, Seojoon’s head on his chest.

“It _was_ a lot to process. A few _months_ ago, when I made the decision to end it,” he whispers, “you should know that my ex and I… we were very distant. Both physically and emotionally. I hardly saw him – especially the last six months or so. We didn’t even text or call one another. I can’t explain why we stayed together for as long as we did but it wasn’t the break-up that you think it was”

Seojoon squeezes his forearm, “I just can’t imagine.”

“More than anything,” Hyungsik continues, “I felt _relief_. It was such a weight, both the relationship and the fear of ending it.”

“I hope you don’t mind me asking but… how did it get so bad?” Seojoon asks.

Hyungsik reaches up to stroke his hair with his left hand, “you can ask me anything,” he says, softly. “I don’t know that it _got_ bad, so much as it was never really _good_ ,” he thinks aloud.

“Never?” Seojoon asks.

“I really don’t know how to explain it. We were friends when we were kids and we grew up together, with everything that comes with confusing adolescence. I was grieving for longer than I wanted to admit and he became a bit of a crutch.” Hyungsik thinks for a moment, “I don’t think I’ve ever said that out loud before,” he realises.

“Was he… your first?” Seojoon asks, cautiously.

“First and only.” Hyungsik replies, before adding: “until you.”

Seojoon raises his head to look at him, propping himself up with his right arm.

“You don’t regret it?” Seojoon asks again.

“Do I look like I regret it?” Hyungsik laughs, “sorry, I’m not making jokes but… body language!” he gestures between them, with his hand.

Seojoon laughs and Hyungsik follows.

“I swear to you, I want this,” Hyungsik says emphatically, “I’m not confused, this isn’t a rebound and you haven’t manipulated me.” He pauses, gazing at Seojoon’s hair, “this is crazy and _unexpected_ but… wow, no, don’t regret it!”

Seojoon studies him for a second and then leans down towards him and begins kissing him softly on the lips.

Hyungsik’s heart begins to race, “God, I’m warning you if you were planning to leave the sofa anytime soon, then you should stop right now because I don’t think I’m entirely in control of myself,” he breathes onto his Seojoon’s lip between kisses.

“Is that a promise?” Seojoon whispers, breathing deeply, pulling at Hyungsik’s shirt.

***

As afternoon rolls around, they sit huddled next to one another on the sofa, knees at their chests, blankets wrapped around them, eating ramen.

The cabin is dark, as the fire crackles and the storm rages outside.

Hyungsik raises an arm and sniffs his armpit, “do I smell?”

“We are pretty disgusting,” Seojoon laughs.

“I blame the snake,” Hyungsik shivers, before shoving noodles in his mouth.

Seojoon ponders with his fork against his mouth, “we could try that again – filling the bath, I mean?”

“Yeah okay – a bath would be good,” Hyungsik agrees.

Seojoon resumes eating his ramen, “we need more wood for the fire too,” he says between mouthfuls.

“We can do that,” Hyungsik replies, slurping at his ramen cup.

Staring at the fire, Seojoon thinks for a moment and exclaims: “we haven’t checked our phones!”

“Huh. Not since this morning, no,” Hyungsik agrees, “we got a bit distracted.” He shoves Seojoon’s shoulders with his own.

Seojoon smirks at him before looking away a little flushed.

“This is surreal,” he announces.

Hyungsik rests his empty ramen cup on the arm of the chair and turns to him, “it is, but what specifically?” he laughs.

“We’re stranded, we’re cold, we’re eating awful food…” Seojoon starts.

“Speak for yourself there, I love ramen!” Hyungsik protests.

Seojoon narrows his eyes at him, in amusement, “my parents have no idea where I am, your sister is probably worried about you. I would kill for a hot shower, to see a vegetable. We should be trying to get home.”

“Yeahhhhh…?” Hyungsik says, as if to say: _your point being?_ “We _are_ trying to get home,” he nods.

“We _are_ ; I mean there’s nothing more we can do but… I also don’t want this to be over,” he says sadly.

“If you think the only reason I like you is because of this hell-hole, you are sorely mistaken, sir!” Hyungsik laughs.

Seojoon lets out a laugh.

“Would you _stop_ worrying about _everything,_ Seojoon?!” Hyungsik begs him, “If you’re thinking that this cabin is somehow magical and when we leave we’re going to hate one another again then you’re wrong!”

“When did you hate me?” Seojoon shoots back, narrowing his eyes with a sly smile.

“Okay, I never hated _you_ but you definitely hated me!” Hyungsik says, turning to him.

“Now _you’re_ wrong.” Seojoon replies, “I never hated you either,” he finishes with a smile.

Hyungsik raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“When did you realise you liked me?” Seojoon asks with a smile, eyes narrowed.

Hyungsik thinks for a moment. “Do you mean: when did I think you were cute or when I thought: _My God! I have to have him!”_

Seojoon throws his head back and laughs, his face and neck flushing red. He puts his hand over his face as he looks back and says: “well I have to know both now!”

“I first thought you were cute…” Hyungsik considers for a moment, “it was when we first lit the fire here and you smiled for the first time,” he says pointing at the fireplace, “Obviously I thought you were _handsome_ , I mean I have eyes but your whole face changes when you smile.”

Seojoon raises his eyebrows and smiles, cheeks glowing.

“How about you?” Hyungsik jabs his shoulder.

“When you ran up the stairs of the bus,” Seojoon laughs.

“You’re fucking kidding me?!” Hyungsik exclaims, incredulously, “you were such a scowl-factory! I thought you couldn’t stand me!”

Seojoon laughs burying his face in his knees, shoulders shaking.

“Was it like a playground thing?! Kick the ball at the boy you liked?!” Hyungsik continues, eyebrows raised but trying not to laugh.

Seojoon tries to recover, “I’m sorry!” he says, reaching for his arm, “I’ve been really anxious and…” he coughs and tries to compose himself, “new at all this,” he taps on his chest with his index finger. “So what about the other moment?” he asks.

Hyungsik rubs one of his eyes, “now _that_ was actually the night we drank soju and you invited me into the bedroom.”

Seojoon laughs into his knees again and then he looks up at him, “I didn’t ‘ _invite_ _you into the bedroom’!”_ he exclaims with air-quotes, “don’t say it like _that_! It’s cold out here, I was worried about you!”

“Sure,” Hyungsik smirks, “that’s why you were blushing when you said it.”

“Oh my God!” Seojoon buries his face in his knees again, this time pulling the blanket up over him.

Hyungsik watches him and laughs. “So, what about you? What was your moment?” he asks, finally.

Seojoon pulls the blanket off of his head and thinks, red faced and hair askew.

“I don’t know that I necessarily knew that that’s what I was feeling, but it was when you said you only had one shirt with you, and I gave you my sweater,” he says, eventually.

“When I was half-naked, you mean?” Hyungsik says with a smirk.

Seojoon ignores his joke and continues, eyes resting on a spot on the floor, “It was just this… spark. I thought: I want to keep you warm. I want to give you my sweater. I want you to be happy and protect you from snakes,” he pauses, “I’ve been on my own for so long. It wasn’t until that moment that I realised I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”

Hyungsik gazes at him for a moment, watching him, lost in thought and serious again.

 _Wow. He really is a writer,_ he thinks _._

Then he realises something: “…and then you wanted to sleep with me?” he laughs.

**Christmas in the Cabin**

Daybreak marks the start of their sixth day in the cabin and Christmas Eve. The storm is showing some signs of calming, the wind not as strong and brief moments of calm between snow-flurries, but it is still treacherous.

After eating breakfast, checking their phones and fetching wood for the day, the two men partially fill the bath tub and wash some of their clothes: Hyungsik’s only shirt, underpants and as many pairs of socks that they could bear to part with.

“Oh, Mega-Boots.” Hyungsik says sadly, as he scrubs the socks, kneeling over the bath.

“We’ll have them back in no time,” Seojoon says with a sympathetic pout, smoothing the hair on the back of his head. “I hope so at least, my feet are freezing.”

“If you were at home, at your parents, what would you be doing right now?” Hyungsik asks him as he hangs freshly washed clothes over the edge of the bath.

Seojoon scoops the clothes up and thinks to himself, looking at the ceiling. “I’d be close to killing my brother and probably drinking in the back garden.”

“On your own?!” Hyungsik laughs, “you’re such a grumpy old man,” he picks up the rest of the wet clothing and they walk into the living room.

“Well, I’d have been there for nearly a week and that’s normally when I’m well over my limit. My parents are _a lot_ ,” Seojoon says, before realising who he’s talking to, “I mean, I love them a lot don’t get me wrong,” he inwardly winces, struggling to find the right words.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to feel weird about it. You’re not the only person I know with parents. You’re allowed to talk about them and even complain about them,” Hyungsik reassures him.

Seojoon begins hanging their clothes over the line of string that they have hooked on the mantle, draped over the fire, “I’m just aware of how I sound,” he says, after a moment of thought.

“You sound like anyone else when they talk about their parents. Please don’t add this to your long list of things to worry about!” He clutches Seojoon’s jaw and shakes his head from side to side.

Seojoon smiles back at him and nods.

Hyungsik finishes balancing socks on their make-shift line. “What’s your brother like then?” he asks.

“Picture… the devil with an iPhone,” Seojoon replies, narrowing his eyes, “he’s not content until he’s caused some small measure of chaos or observed some form of drama, for the day,” he laughs. “He’s really funny though, when he’s not being annoying, and he has a big heart.”

“Were you close when you were kids?” Hyungsik enquires, as he picks up a blanket and sits on the sofa.

“I think we’ve always had a close relationship but there’s seven years between us so I always felt like a very big brother to him. He went through a phase of following me around everywhere and wanting to spend all his time with me, but he told me years later that it was because he thought I was lonely!” Seojoon laughs as he sits down beside him.

Hyungsik smiles, “that’s really sweet. He actually sounds a lot like you. Prickly exterior, big heart.”

“An out-going, well-adjusted and less anxious version of me,” Seojoon jokes, “a younger sibling basically!” he grabs Hyungsik’s sweater and tugs him over to him, wrapping his legs around him and lying back on the sofa, his upper back against the arm. Hyungsik lies back on him and Seojoon pulls him into a hug, wrapping the blankets around them.

“What’s your sister like?” Seojoon asks, his chin resting on the top of Hyungsik’s head.

“High-achieving, hard-working, fashion-obsessed, boy-obsessed and beautiful,” he sighs, “she’s amazing. She’s a bit of a drama queen but she makes me laugh so much.”

“Does she live in Pyeongchang?”

“I live with her,” Hyungsik laughs, “we’re really close. She’s only three years younger than me.”

“I hope I get to meet her.” Seojoon, wishes.

“You will.” Hyungsik replies, with a squeeze of his arm.

***

They spend the morning talking about their families, childhoods, favourite books, films and TV shows. They realise they attended the same middle school but never met, as Seojoon was in his last year when Hyungsik was in his first. Hyungsik is shocked to learn that the seriously high-brow writer has enjoyed numerous trashy dramas and they laugh as they discuss the ridiculous plots and characters.

They partially fill the bath again, Seojoon jumping in first as Hyungsik watches him wash, sat on the floor of the bathroom, arms draped over the bath and a smirk on his face.

“Can I wash your hair?” he asks, a tad suggestively.

Seojoon laughs, “if you want to,” he says, turning himself in the bath and leaning on the side, his head tilted towards Hyungsik.

Hyungsik grabs the shampoo and begins massaging it into Seojoon’s hair. Moving his fingers in small circles, he slowly works the suds through his hair, occasionally tugging at it slightly as he works his way outwards. He runs his fingers up the back of Seojoon’s head before massaging the sides again.

“So… this feels really good,” Seojoon announces after a short while.

“Does it?” Hyungsik says with a knowing smile.

Seojoon turns around, “what are you doing?” he asks suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

“Washing your hair!” Hyungsik laughs, incredulously. He moves his hands back to Seojoon’s hair and runs his fingers along the sides of his head. He notices goose-bumps on Seojoon’s arm and looks at him. He’s biting his lip with a smirk.

“Something wrong?” Hyungsik asks with a smile, faux-innocence in his voice.

“Come here,” Seojoon demands.

Hyungsik leans forward and Seojoon grabs the back of his head, kissing him passionately.

Still kissing, Seojoon begins transferring suds from his own head onto Hyungsik’s dry hair and Hyungsik starts to laugh and begins to try and escape but Seojoon grabs his shirt and drags him over the edge of the bath.

Still struggling and laughing, Hyungsik loses his grip on the edge of the bath and falls in shoulder first, fully clothed.

Seojoon continues to wash Hyungsik’s hair, laughing at the top of his voice.

Recovering from the water that was thrown into his face, Hyungsik tries to return an attack, attempting to reach for Seojoon’s hair but Seojoon stops him, grabbing Hyungsik’s forearms and pushing him backwards, pinning him to the edge of the bath.

“What now?” Hyungsik’s asks, looking up at him and smiling salaciously.

***

By the time afternoon rolls around, they’ve managed to clean themselves and all of their clothes are dry.

They bundle themselves up in layers and heat some soup from the supply of tinned goods.

As they are eating at the low table in front of the fire, Hyungsik excitedly suggests that they should make a fire-side bed out of the sofa cushions.

“I don’t think we can be trusted with something that would be such an incredible fire-risk,” Seojoon laughs, raising an eyebrow at him.

“As long as we keep an eye on the fire, it’ll be fine!” Hyungsik protests.

Seojoon looks at him, “you mean in the same way that we were totally just washing in the bath earlier?”

“Baths are sexy,” Hyungsik smirks.

“And fire-side beds aren’t?” Seojoon counters.

“Point taken,” Hyungsik concedes with a smile, “I do feel like we need to do _something_ special though – it’s Christmas Eve!”

“I’d say it’s already pretty special,” Seojoon smiles at him, eyes twinkling in the firelight.

Hyungsik smiles back at him.

“What would you normally be doing on Christmas Eve?” Seojoon asks, returning his attention to his soup.

Hyungsik places the inside of his spoon on his nose and looks at the ceiling, thinking. “Probably watching a movie or playing a game with my sister,” he says, finally.

“Hmm, we definitely can’t do that,” Seojoon says with a small laugh.

“We can!” Hyungsik says suddenly, excitement all over his face. He leaps up from the table and rushes into the bedroom, dragging his bag into the living room.

After a short time rummaging, he produces an old, slightly battered PSVita.

“I’m pretty sure that there are movies on here still,” he mutters, frowning at the small glowing screen. “It won’t be much of a selection though…”

“I’ll watch whatever you want to watch,” Seojoon replies, gazing at him with a small smile on his face.

Seojoon clears the table as Hyungsik carefully balances his PSVita against two mugs, the screen facing the sofa.

“The battery might not last for a whole film but we’ll try,” Hyungsik says, sitting on the sofa.

Seojoon climbs over the back of the sofa and lies behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. “What are we watching then?” he asks, as he wriggles to get comfortable.

After a brief discussion about the options available, Seojoon roundly mocking Hyungsik for some of the films on his console, they settle on a movie and Hyungsik lies back into Seojoon’s arms, Seojoon’s chin resting in the crook of his neck, their cheeks touching.

“This is nice,” Seojoon smiles happily, closing his eyes.

***

It’s Christmas Day. Hyungsik wakes to several unidentifiable smells. He’s alone in bed and can hear clattering in the kitchen. He rubs his eyes and retrieves his clothes from the floor, before stumbling out of the bedroom.

He enters the open kitchen/living space to find quite the scene. Hanging from the ceiling and draped around window frames are paper-chains, which appear to be torn pages from a book. On the kitchen counter there’s a large quantity of dubious looking side dishes, some dusty looking party hats and seven more bottles of soju. By the fire, stands a small tree, decorated with food wrappers and a foil star at top, seemingly fashioned from a snack lid. A damp trail leads from the tree to the door.

“I’m lost for words” Hyungsik calls to Seojoon, who didn’t notice him enter and was banging pans in the sink. He turns to him and smiles. A big warm, content smile.

“That’s a first” he laughs and he strides over to Hyungsik, wrapping his hands around his waist and kissing him.

“Morning” Hyungsik laughs between small kisses, “you’ve been… busy?”

“Merry Christmas!” Seojoon sings, stepping back and spreading his arms wide to gesture around the room.

“Where did you get all this paper from?” Hyungsik enquires, inspecting a nearby chain. “Is this the book you were going to lend me? Did you really commit such a sacrilegious act of tearing pages from a book?!”

Seojoon rubs his hands together and bows his head solemnly in a silent prayer to the book-gods. “Worth it.” he asserts, grinning broadly before pecking Hyungsik on the cheek.

***

1pm. Three bottles of soju later.

“Are you still full?” Seojoon asks Hyungsik. They’re both sprawled on the sofa, arms and legs intertwined, the fire crackling fiercely. They’re donning the dusty party hats which were found hidden in the depths of the kitchen cupboards.

Hyungsik groans dramatically, “I don’t know if I’m full or just recovering from your weird cooking.”

“I’m an amazing cook, I swear. I didn’t exactly have much to work with here. I promise, I will prove to you that I can cook. Any meal you want, any time.”

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” Hyungsik moves his arms out from around Seojoon and stretches towards the low table, negotiating a bottle of soju and as steadily as possible pouring two glasses. “I assume you want more?” he pauses as he starts to bring the two glasses over to sofa.

“Please” Seojoon mutters lazily. “I’ll have to stop soon though or I’ll just fall asleep” He stretches his arms and adjusts himself on the sofa, claiming the additional space from Hyungsik.

“Well, we can’t have that, I guess I’ll have to have yours” Hyungsik gestures as if he’s going to drink from the glass he was passing to Seojoon, and Seojoon lunges forward to drink from it resulting in half of it falling on his face.

“Hahaha you _idiot!”_ Hyungsik gasps between laughing breaths.

Seojoon laughs with his eyes closed, face covered in soju, party hat askew.

Suddenly overcome by the sight of him, his smiling eyes, his dishevelled and now partially wet hair, Hyungsik leans down and kisses him.

Surprised, Seojoon takes a moment to adjust to this new turn of events, before tugging Hyungsik towards him, snaking his hands up his back and kissing him back, lustily.

The afternoon and the night blurs into one long, hazy, blur of soju, sex and stupidity.

**Declarations and Acclimations**

The morning of Boxing Day, the cabin is littered with their clothing, the remnants of food and drink and two crumpled, dusty party hats. Seven empty green bottles scattered on the floor, mark the end of the cabin’s alcohol supply.

Sun streams into the bedroom. The sky is clear and for the first day in a week: there’s no snow falling.

Seojoon opens his eyes and squints in the sunlight. His head feels like a bowling ball and it hurts like it’s been used as one. He gingerly moves his head to look at Hyungsik who is still fast-asleep, on his side, facing Seojoon, arms stretched out towards him. He studies his hands. Is it possible to be attracted to someone’s hands? He wishes he had more energy. To wake him with a kiss… He pushes the thought from his mind, knowing how incapable he was feeling in that moment. Still fighting the carnal urges, he notices Hyungsik open his eyes.

“Soooooo bright” he groans.

Seojoon responds with a small smile as he presses his face into his pillow. He drinks in the sight of Hyungsik in the sunlight. His hair stuck up at odd angles, his long dark eyelashes framing his squinting but sparkling eyes. His long, lean but muscular arms. His red lips.

“I think I’m going to die” Hyungsik groans again and starts to edge himself over to Seojoon.

“Um… you might not want to come over here.” Seojoon grins, “there’s a situation that I’m powerless to address.”

Hyungsik looks confused before quickly reading and interpreting his boyfriend’s red cheeks and ears. “Really?!” he laughs, “I feel like you’re just making up for lost time now.”

“It’s you.” Seojoon says softly, smirking to himself. “Stay back. What have you done to me?”

“Uhhhh why did we drink so much?!” Hyungsik moans as he reaches out to Seojoon’s face and brushes his thumb along his bottom lip. “What have you done to _me_?!”

“I need water. And a cold shower.” Seojoon croaks. He licks his lips as Hyungsik moves his hand up his cheek and into his hair.

“Please stop!” Seojoon cries, closing his eyes.

“Haha okay. Water.” Hyungsik concedes and moves his hand away. Seojoon grabs it and interlocks his fingers, doing the same to his other hand and pulling him towards him. They kiss slowly and lazily, hands clasped either side of them.

“I can’t.”

“Me neither.”

They admit finally, after several minutes.

“As torture goes, this is definitely up there, I think.” Seojoon grumbles.

“Water, I need water” Hyungsik announces before peeling himself off of the bed and heading into the kitchen.

***

2pm. The low winter sun casts long, soft shadows over the bed. The two men, hot from the sunlight, their hangovers and their intermittent lazy and lust-filled kisses during brief moments of consciousness, are splayed out on the bed, on top of the blankets, hands clasped.

They both stir at the sound of an engine. Gravel and snow pops and cracks under the weight of car tires, the sound getting closer to the cabin.

“That’s a car” Seojoon says, eyes wide, suddenly very awake.

They spring out of the bed and over to the window.

A car pulls up and a man in his late 20s, good-looking but scowling, strides towards the cabin.

Hyungsik recognises him immediately. With no time to explain to Seojoon, he rushes outside to meet his ex.

***

Seojoon peers out of the window and watches as Hyungsik stops the man in his tracks as he approaches the porch. He listens to the muffled conversation as they begin to argue.

“What the fuck happened?” the man cries

“It’s a long story. We… I became stranded… There was a snow-storm…” Hyungsik trails off.

“I got your message. Do you know what I had to do to find you?!” the man continued, angrily, shifting his weight between his feet. “I had to call the bus company, find out what bus you were on, interview the driver who told me about the tire and showed me where he had to change it.” He gestured in the general direction of the distant lay-by with his phone. “ _Then_ , I had to assess maps of the area and case out possible locations that you might be! This is the sixth place I’ve been today!”

“I’m sorry” Hyungsik offered.

“Your message was _so_ unhelpful. Completely vague. You’re lucky I’m a cop!” the man shouts.

 _His ex_ , Seojoon realises.

“Why did you contact _me_ ? Why not your sister? You call on me, AGAIN. What am I to you now?!” he pauses, pointing a finger at Hyungsik. “You were right: you _are_ a coward.” He says through gritted teeth.

Seojoon bristles at this, fighting the urge to intervene.

“You know I could’ve ended it a long time ago. I _wanted_ to. How could I? With the spectre of ‘ _Mr. Perfect’s’_ dead parents, who would sympathise with the guy who dumped Hyungsik?! Everyone would think I was a monster.”

At this final harsh tirade, Seojoon has heard enough. He storms out of the cabin, failing to remember that; a) he’s very hungover and b) he’s wearing some of Hyungsik’s very dorky but adorable Christmas pyjamas which he’d modelled for him at some point during their drunken antics.

Shivering in the cold air, Seojoon strides past Hyungsik towards the gruff cop.

“This man is not a coward.” He points at Hyungsik, not taking his eyes off of the cop, fearing at any moment he would swing a punch at him. “He’s the strongest person I’ve ever met. Everything he’s been through… He’s kind and resilient, he can deal with anything and makes the best of everything. I just can’t believe that someone like him exists, that I’m lucky enough to have met him like I did. I’ve only known him for seven days but it feels like I’ve known him my entire life. I love him…”

Seojoon trails off in horror at his own declaration and turns to face Hyungsik, who has been staring at him, mouth agape throughout his speech. They stare at one another wordlessly.

Hyungsik’s ex, watching in confusion, asks “and who the hell are you?”

Seojoon turns back to him and he stumbles over his words as he tries to answer “I… He… I’m…” he begins gesturing with his fingers wildly. His head pounding. His feet numb in the snow.

Without warning, another car comes trundling up the driveway.

The three men: one in pyjamas, two barefoot in the snow, stare dumbfounded at this latest development.

Pulling up behind the cop, three people hurry out of the car towards Seojoon. An older man and a woman, likely his parents and a young man that Hyungsik assumes is his brother.

“Seojie!” his mother cries as she throws her arms around him, quickly followed by his Dad and his brother. None of them seem to have noticed the odd scene they’ve found him in.

Surprised to see them, Seojoon gasps “How did you find me?”

“It all started seven days ago” his brother begins, fanning his hands out dramatically to set the scene. “When you didn’t arrive at the bus station we knew something was wrong. By then the weather was pretty bad so Mum and Dad were freaking out.”

“Me: having a cool-head and nerves of steel, I fired up my laptop.” He thumbs his chest and mimics frantic typing.

“Three words: Find. My. Phone.” He counts them out on his fingers.

“Using the app which I bullied you into installing seven months ago, I was able to see your last known location. The last place your phone pinged at a tower.”

“Checking the map, I could see it was pretty rural and figured out quickly that you must have no signal.”

“Now knowing you, and your fear of ‘vampires’” he gestures air quotes at his brother, “and what with the weather being crazy, I guessed that you would’ve tried to find shelter somewhere.”

“Then it was a case of working out how far your lazy-ass would’ve been able to walk and looking at what was in the area.” He claps his hands together as though dusting them off, grinning widely at his brother and then sidles up to Hyungsik eyeing him knowingly “so who’s your cabin-companion been all this time?”

Seojoon slaps his hand to his face and looks at Hyungsik through his fingers, who is looking every bit bewildered and uncomfortable.

***

Seojoon ushers his family into the cabin, leaving Hyungsik outside with his ex.

Hyungsik retrieves his boots and they sit on the porch steps.

“I’m sorry I contacted you, Ji-soo” Hyungsik says, tugging at his own sleeves.

Ji-soo sighs and flicks a leaf off of the porch. “You were right to. I shouldn’t have gone-off like that. Sorry.”

“I understand why you did. The way we ended things.”

“I was _so worried_ about you” Ji-soo stresses, scratching the back of his head.

“Sorry.”

“What I said… Look, I didn’t mean…” he trails off and sighs again.

“I know.”

“We were never right for one another. The last five years… I’ve hardly seen you.”

“Right.”

Ji-soo turns to look at Hyungsik, “You know, if you’re a coward then so am I. I couldn’t let go. I don’t know what I thought would happen but I was so _scared_ for you.”

“I’m fine.” Hyungsik replies, “I’ve been doing fine for a really long time. I have _you_ to thank for that, but we’re different people with different lives now. It’s been like that for the longest time.”

“Right.” Ji-soo croaks, “I just hope, more than anything, that you can find happiness with someone. A relationship like your parents had - like you’ve always wanted” he glances briefly at the cabin.

Hyungsik nods.

Ji-soo stands. “Are you going to be okay?” he asks.

“I’ll be fine. Seojoon’s family live in Pyeongchang.” Hyungsik stands too, poised awkwardly between the cabin door and his ex. He can hear loud voices from inside the cabin.

“I should get going.” Ji-soo thumbs towards his car and walks slowly backwards.

“Okay. Thanks, Ji-soo.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Hyungsik watches him drive away down the track.

***

Inside the cabin, there’s a flurry of activity and several voices talking at once. Hyungsik removes his boots and slowly makes his way towards the family whirling around the kitchen, swinging his arms awkwardly with each step.

“This isn’t the _Seojie_ , I know! I didn’t raise you like this! This is someone else’s property! Look at this pan!” Seojoon’s mother raises a pan, showing him the bottom, which is black.

Hyungsik meets his gaze and he mouths “Seojie” silently at him.

Noticing the exchange, Seojoon’s brother eyes them both before adding “so, who’s clothes are all over the floor?”

“Oh, mine. Sorry, I’m a messy room-mate.” Hyungsik replies quickly, seeing the panic on Seojoon’s face. He starts to gather the items of clothing from the floor.

“That’s Seojoon’s” his brother grins, eyeing him lazily and looking at a hooded sweatshirt Hyungsik is wearing.

“Right. I didn’t have many clothes with me.” Hyungsik laughs nervously.

Seojoon’s father, who had been crouched down and gazing inside one of the kitchen cupboards, stands up and announces “the fuse has fallen out!” and reaches for one of the light switches and flicks it. The three bulbs in the room glow with a dim light, barely visible in the bright room. He reaches for the hot tap at the kitchen sink and opens the faucet. They hear the roar of a boiler.

“The boiler must be in that cupboard,” he points at a concealed door in the wood panelling between the kitchen and bathroom.

Seojoon and Hyungsik stare at it, mouths agape.

Seojoon’s mother announces she’s going to wash-up before they leave. Seojoon’s father grabs a towel from the kitchen and they both quietly bicker at the sink in a way that only happily married people do.

“It’s freezing in here” Seojoon’s brother complains, shoulder’s hunched.

Seojoon looks at the fire. “I could light the fire for a bit, if you want to have a drink before we go?” he offers.

“We need to clean this place too,” his Mother tuts.

Hyungsik and Seojoon get the fire going and silently start to pick up the litter from their impromptu and messy Christmas Day.

Seojoon’s brother seats himself on one of the stools at the breakfast bar and watches them.

“So, how did you both end up missing the bus at that lay-by?” he asks, leaning back and waving his index finger back and forth pointing at the two of them.

“Ah, it was my fault, I had a call of nature and caused Seojoon to miss the bus too” Hyungsik laughed, walking over to the edge of the sofa and perching on the arm to face Seojoon’s brother.

“You needed my brother for your call of nature?” Seojoon’s brother asks, slightly incredulously, with faux-innocence on his face.

“Taehyung!” Seojoon snaps, “Can you shut up for just one minute?”

Clearly invigorated to have annoyed his brother, Taehyung leans forward on the stool, “love the pyjamas by the way,” grinning widely at Seojoon.

Seojoon looks down at himself, only now realising that he had been wearing them throughout the course of recent events. He rushes into the bedroom to change.

“Need help cleaning the bedroom?” Taehyung calls after him.

The door slams shut. Seojoon’s parents look up and tut, seemingly oblivious to the nature of the teasing.

Taehyung’s attention falls back on to Hyungsik, who is now sat cross-legged on the arm of the sofa, arms folded, smiling to himself.

“So, who was the man?” Taehyung asks bluntly.

“Oh… um… that was my ex” Hyungsik answers truthfully.

“When did you break up?” Taehyung fires back.

“Seven days ago.” Hyungsik nods matter-of-factly, “although it had been years in the making. It was long-distance and not really working, you know?”

“Ahhhh” Taehyung offers, sympathetically. He thinks for a moment. “And then you met my brother.”

“Ha – yeah, guess so” Hyungsik maintains eye contact with him, completely unabashed.

Taehyung studies him for a moment. “Good for you.” he announces finally, smiling broadly.

Hyungsik smiles back.

Seojoon strides out of the bedroom, now wearing black trousers and a pale blue and white knitted sweater, clutching his bag and Hyungsik’s.

Taehyung looks past him, through the open door into the bedroom. “What about the bed sheets?” he asks flatly.

Seojoon’s mother removes her gloves, “we should wash them or take them with us and leave some money for the owners” she begins to head to the bedroom.

Dashing past her, Seojoon scoops the sheets up off of the bed and rushing back into the living room, he promptly throws them into the fire.

She stares at him, mouth agape. “Why would you do that?!”

Great plumes of black smoke fill the cabin and they all cough and splutter, fanning the air.

Seojoon darts to the door and opens it, releasing some of the smoke. The fire roars and spits, as it devours the sheets.

“Incredible,” Taehyung gasps, with a very amused look on his face, “subtle as ever, hyung!”

Seojoon’s mother scowls at Seojoon and repeats: “why would you _do_ that?!”

Avoiding the question, Seojoon closes the door again, fanning and dispersing the remaining smoke with his hands.

“It’s my fault, Mrs. Park. I’m afraid I spilled a noodle cup in there this morning and the sheets are ruined.” Hyungsik laughs casually, making his way over to her. “I’ll leave some money for the owners” He asserts, pulling his wallet out from his pockets and thumbing several notes onto the kitchen counter.

“Such a good boy.” She smiles at him, seemingly content with the unconvincing explanation and grasping one of his forearms. “Goodness, look at that face!” she declares, as if only just noticing him,

Hyungsik laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

She smiles at him, “my son’s a writer. Did you know that? He’s going to be famous.” She nods slowly, holding his gaze.

“Uh, yeah I know. He’s very talented.” Hyungsik responds politely.

She turns her gaze to Seojoon and smiles, still clutching Hyungsik’s forearm, “handsome too” she adds finally.

Hyungsik coughs several times before managing to say “Um… Yes… Yes, he is…” beaming at the older lady, who eyes him with a cheeky smile, eyes twinkling.

“So much soju.” Seojoons father suddenly announces, holding up one of the bags, filled with the empty bottles.

**Reality**

The five of them exit the cabin as the sun begins to set.

It’s looking tidier than they found it, with much of the dust that had settled, now swept away.

Seojoon’s parents climb into the front of the car and Taehyung throws their bags into the trunk, as the two men hesitate on the porch of the cabin, looking back at its red door, sharing a glance.

They smile subtly at one another.

They hit the road, the two men seated in the back of the car, either side of Taehyung.

“Did you miss me, brother?” he grins, tugging on Seojoon’s arm. “It’s been nearly six months!”

“Stop pulling at my sweater!” Seojoon complains.

The brothers bicker, Taehyung gesturing animatedly, Seojoon protesting with knitted eyebrows and laughing intermittently.

Hyungsik watches him with a smile from the other side of the backseat. He wasn’t the surly man he met at the lay-by. He was warm, kind, funny and utterly adorable. He gazes at his bone structure, appreciating his high-cheekbones, his shapely lips, the dimples in his cheeks and creases at his eyes, which reveal themselves only when he smiles.

He rests his elbow on the car door, as Seojoon meets his gaze and they smile at one another.

Taehyung notices the exchange and rolls his eyes before turning his attention to his phone.

“So son, did you do it?” Seojoon’s father asks suddenly, eyeing his son in the rear-view mirror.

The couple erupt into coughing fits either side of the backseat.

Taehyung, becoming interested again, sets his phone down on his lap and smirks to himself, watching his brother splutter.

“What?!” Seojoon manages, finally.

“Finish the chapter you were working on?” Seojoon’s father responds, with an air of innocence, as though it was obvious.

“Right.” Seojoon splutters, still looking stunned. “Um… No I didn’t.”

“Been too busy have you?” Taehyung interjects, a broad grin spreading across his very cheeky face.

Hyungsik pretends to be interested in something out of the window. Suppressing a laugh against the glass.

Seojoon squirms in his seat, before pulling out his phone and pretending to be busy with emails.

***

30 minutes from Pyeongchang, Seojoon’s parents decide to stop at a garage.

As his father fills the tank and his mother and brother find the restroom, the two men get out to stretch their legs, making a little distance between them and the car.

The evening air is cold and fresh, and the two men shiver as they walk slowly across the carpark, arms folded, swaying towards one another every other step.

“So, you were right about your brother. He’s a handful, huh?” Hyungsik observes, breaking the bashful silence between them. He gestures back towards the car.

“He’s a pain in the ass.” Seojoon scowls.

“Your family seem cool though.” Hyungsik responds earnestly, looking at Seojoon before turning his eyes to the tarmac.

Sensing the slightest hint of sadness in his boyfriend, Seojoon glances back in the direction of the car before reaching out to take Hyungsik’s hand. They smile at one another.

Hyungsik sighs contentedly. “What a day” he reflects.

Nodding, eye-brows raised, Seojoon adds “it’s not how I imagined it would end.”

“End?” Hyungsik teases, “You won’t get rid of me that easily!” He jabs and tugs at Seojoon’s arm.

“You know what I mean” Seojoon says hurriedly, slightly aghast. “I mean your ex and my family showing up like that.”

“Yeah that was quite… intense.” Hyungsik agrees, turning his eyes towards the road. He thinks for a moment and then frowns, returning his gaze to Seojoon. His eyes narrow. “Did you really mean what you said back at the cabin?”

Wide-eyed and stunned, Seojoon attempts to look anywhere but at Hyungsik. “What?” he eventually splutters.

Hyungsik smiles. _He’s so transparent_ , he thinks to himself. _I can read you like a book now, Seojie_ . _My favourite book_. He exhales loudly and then tilts his head towards Seojoon, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Have I really melted your cold, winter heart?” he asks theatrically in his cheekiest voice, punctuating the question with a broad smile and placing his hand on Seojoon’s chest.

“Aish,” Seojoon surrenders, his knees seemingly buckling for a fraction-of-a-second. 

He tugs Hyungsik towards him and kisses him quickly on the lips. It’s just a chu. He glances back at the car and notices the headlights are on. His family, now back in the car, saw everything.

Seojoon stares, a deer caught in very real headlights.

“I’m pretty sure they already know.” Hyungsik assures him, before tugging his arm and walking back towards the car. He smiles politely at Seojoon’s parents as they watch through the windscreen, before releasing his hand to go around to his side of the car.

Seojoon climbs into his side of the car in stunned silence.

There’s a brief moment of silence, aside from the car engine, then Seojoon’s father asks, “Hungry?” eyeing his son from the rear-view mirror.

Before Seojoon can react, his father tosses onto his lap a small bag of chocolates. Wrapped in red foil, each in the shape of a heart.

Everyone in the car attempts to conceal their laughter, apart from Seojoon who throws his hands to his face and turns a deep shade of red, ears glowing.

***

They spend the remainder of the drive to Pyeongchang singing along to Christmas pop songs on the radio (even Seojoon, in his quietest voice).

***

**This is Not Goodbye**

Once in Pyeongchang, Hyungsik explains to Seojoon’s parents where he lives and they drive him to his tiny apartment building.

As they pull up outside the well-kept building, Seojoon and Hyungsik exchange glances.

“I’ll help you,” Seojoon says opening the car door.

“He’s only got one bag,” Taehyung calls to him, but Seojoon just ignores him.

Hyungsik and Seojoon walk up the stairs to the third floor and linger outside of his front door.

“Well, I guess this is where we part for a while,” Hyungsik says, with a smile but there is sadness in his eyes.

Seojoon sighs and reaches for one of his hands, “I can’t believe I won’t be beside you tonight,” he says, almost with a whisper.

Hyungsik squeezes his hand, “this _isn’t_ goodbye, Seojoon. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Seojoon nods.

“Go!” Hyungsik laughs.

Seojoon leans in to kiss him and Hyungsik slides his hands beneath his coat, hands on the small of his back.

After a minute or so, they part and say their goodbyes – both with forced smiles.

***

Hyungsik opens the door to his apartment to find his sister at the door, with a shocked expression on her face.

“Sis!” he sighs, pulling her in for a hug.

She immediately pushes him away, “No! You don’t get to disappear for nearly a week, after leaving town to break up with your boyfriend, with no call, no text and then arrive home KISSING ANOTHER BOY, and then just HUG ME. Like, NO BIG DEAL, or anything!”

Hyungsik laughs, “it’s a long story and I promise to tell you everything, Joo-young” he reaches out to both of her shoulders, “I’m sorry if I worried you. I had no way of contacting you the whole time, until about forty-five minutes ago.”

Joo-young scowls at him, before finally breaking into a smile, “everything?” she negotiates.

“Well, _almost_ … pretty much everything,” he smirks.

“I think I need snacks!” she laughs, sounding both scandalised and excited.

***

Arriving back at his parent’s house Seojoon feels numb. He tries to pay attention to what his parents are saying to him, as they discuss dinner and possible family plans for the following day, but he feels in a haze. All he can think about is how much he’s going to miss Hyungsik.

After dropping his bag in his bedroom, he reaches for his phone in his pocket and has a sudden realisation: they had never actually exchanged numbers. The entire time they were in the cabin, their phones had become useless objects and so it had just never come up.

He looks at the time: 6.31pm. _I can’t wait until morning_ ; he thinks to himself.

“ _Appa_ , I’m borrowing the car quickly!” he announces, as he walks briskly through the living room and grabs the keys from the table.

“Where are you going?” his mother asks, looking stunned and a little annoyed.

“There’s needy and then there’s _needy_ , brother,” Taehyung offers, mouth wide.

Seojoon considers him for a moment, before blinking rapidly and heading out the door.

***

Pulling up outside Hyungsik’s apartment building, Seojoon hesitates, his brother’s words ringing in his ears. _Am I being needy?_ He asks himself. _Maybe?_ He looks at his phone, _No. He said he would call and he can’t call me. We’ll just exchange numbers and then I’ll be fine._

He climbs the stairs to the apartment and hesitates at his door. _This is insane. I’m being insane,_ he suddenly feels embarrassed. _I’m here now though._

Finally making a decision, he rings the bell.

After a moment, Hyungsik appears at the door.

“Seojoon?” he says, looking very surprised and uncharacteristically flushed. He steps outside, “everything okay?”

Seojoon swallows, “I don’t have your number,” he says looking positively petrified.

Seeing him standing there, knowing him as he does and realising how he’s likely been agonising about this, Hyungsik is overcome and steps forward to kiss him.

“I’m not being needy,” Seojoon says, between kisses.

Hyungsik laughs, “I am,” he says, before dragging him inside the apartment.

Striding into the open-planned living room, with Seojoon in tow, hands clasped, Hyungsik matter-of-factly announces: “Seojoon: my sister, Joo-young. Joo-young: this is Seojoon.”

Before either of them can acknowledge one another, Hyungsik drags Seojoon into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind them.

***

“Stay here tonight,” Hyungsik whispers as they kiss against the back of his bedroom door.

“Your sister…” Seojoon breathes back, between lust-filled kisses.

Hyungsik pushes him forward away from the door and negotiates them both over to a bookcase and switching his stereo on, never parting his lips from Seojoon’s.

They both laugh softly on each other’s lips.

“We have to be quiet though,” Hyungsik says in a low voice, turning on the radio.

They grapple with each other’s clothes before pausing to remove their own, feverishly.

The sex is hungry and intense, both of them struggling not to make a sound, and being forced to put their hands over each other’s mouths.

Exhausted and sweating profusely, they collapse side by side, laughing as quietly as they can manage.

“My god…” Hyungsik breathes, as he tries to catch his breath.

“I don’t think I can feel any part of myself,” Seojoon murmurs, listlessly.

“It’s a very happy-numb,” Hyungsik agrees, turning to face him.

Seojoon looks back at him and they laugh again.

Breath returning to him, Seojoon says, “I’ve been wanting to do that since this morning,” he swings his left arm over to Hyungsik, seemingly with great effort and rests his hand on his chest, turning on his side to face him.

“Well, if it’s any consolation: it was worth the wait,” Hyungsik smiles.

“I need you to know that you drive me crazy,” Seojoon says in a low-voice, looking into his eyes earnestly.

“And I need _you_ to know that the feeling’s _mutual_ ” Hyungsik replies, rolling to face him. “I was trying to explain to my sister what had happened to us and just talking about you, and you not being there…”

“Have we got Stockholm Syndrome?” Seojoon frowns with creases at his eyes.

“I think so,” Hyungsik laughs.

“Is it always like this?” Seojoon asks.

Hyungsik takes his hand, “I only have one point of reference for comparison and I can safely say that it was nothing like this. Ever.”

They smile happily at one another, squeezing each other’s fingers.

“I want to stay here tonight but I need to get my Dad’s car back – he’s working tomorrow,” Seojoon says, looking mildly anguished.

Hyungsik leans closer and softly kisses him, once and slowly, savouring it lazily. “It’s okay,” he says finally, as he pulls away, “come over tomorrow?”

“Deal,” Seojoon smiles.

He looks around the room. The walls are a deep blue and lined with shelves containing books and music. There are two ornate acoustic guitars on the wall and a keyboard arranged in an L shape next to his small desk, which is covered in what appears to be music-related equipment. The edges of the ceiling are draped with small string lights, giving off a soft warm glow. There are framed record covers and beautiful pieces of art on the walls.

“Your room is amazing,” Seojoon announces.

“Thank you!” Hyungsik beams, as he sits up and begins to locate his clothes.

Seojoon follows suit, suddenly feeling very anxious and ashamed to go back out and face Hyungsik’s sister.

“Oh God, what must your sister think?” Seojoon wonders, his cheeks flushing a little.

“She’s done it to me enough times!” Hyungsik laughs, “although, it is weird to be on this side of things. I know how thin these walls are,” he grimaces at Seojoon.

Seojoon guffaws with horror before burying his head in Hyungsik’s chest, “don’t make me go out there!” he complains, “is there a fire escape?!”

Hyungsik laughs, pulling him away from his chest and beginning to usher him to the door, “come on, let’s just get this over with!”

***

Sheepishly returning to the living room, the two men find Joo-young watching the TV with headphones on.

Upon seeing this, Seojoon immediately turns a deep shade of red and starts to become intensely interested in the ceiling, looking like he wishes the earth would open and swallow him.

Hyungsik crouches down to her and touches her arm, trying not to make her jump.

“Oh hi!” she says with surprise, “you’re back!” She removes her headphones and switches off the TV, swivelling on the sofa to face them both.

“Well, hello Mr. Park Seojoon,” she says, emphasising each part of his name. “Please have a seat,” she gestures to the empty cushions on the L-shaped sectional.

Seojoon, trying to compose himself, coughs and then sits down next to her, followed by Hyungsik.

“So, what are your intentions with my brother?” she asks, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at him.

As Seojoon struggles to reply, mouth agape, she quickly follows her question up with: “just kidding! You’re adorable and I’m really frankly just jealous of my brother right now,” turning to Hyungsik and making little effort to be subtle, she mouths _nice work_ to her brother.

Hyungsik laughs, seemingly un-phased by this nature of banter with his sister.

“Seojoon has to get his Dad’s car back but he’ll coming round tomorrow, so you’ll see him again then okay?” he says, “so say goodbye to my adorable boyfriend” he winks.

Seojoon has no time to react, before Hyungsik drags him off of the sofa and out of the front door.

Outside, Hyungsik hands Seojoon his phone, “Hey! You’re cute, can I have your number?” he jokes.

Seojoon smiles sweetly at him before entering his number and handing his phone back to him.

“Goodnight, Hyungsik,” he says tilting his head and kissing him softly.

“Goodnight,” Hyungsik replies, smiling as Seojoon backs away from the door and then disappears down the stairs,

Hyungsik smiles to himself and bites his lip.

He looks at his phone. The newly entered contact reads ‘Seojie’.

***

For the two days remaining that Seojoon is in town for Christmas, they split their time between their own families and each other, with some overlap, as Seojoon’s parents insist on inviting Hyungsik around for dinner and Seojoon faces intense questioning from Joo-young.

Hyungsik laughs at Seojoon’s teenage bedroom, they share music and books with one another, they play video games and whenever they can, they have sex.

Neither of them talk about Seojoon leaving and the distance that there will be between them when he returns to Seoul.

As the evening of the final day rolls around, Seojoon’s family drive him to the bus station and Hyungsik arranges to meet him there, his sister in tow.

Seojoon hugs his family goodbye, his brother squeezing him tightly and then Joo-young insists on hugging him too, “come here, adorable!” she cries.

Hyungsik walks him to the bus.

Hesitating at the open door, they stand side-by-side, wordlessly.

“This actually really sucks,” Hyungsik says finally, his voice breaking slightly.

“It does,” Seojoon agrees.

Hyungsik looks at him. He has tears in his eyes.

Seojoon takes his hands, “I’m going to miss you so much,” he says sniffing, “I only met you a week ago and now I feel like without you… I’m going to be so lost.”

“Oh god!” Hyungsik says with a whisper, throwing his arms around him and burying his head in his neck.

“I know this isn’t goodbye,” Seojoon says hoarsely, “but it really feels like one.”

“It’s not, this isn’t goodbye. You live two hours away and do you know what?” he pulls away from him and grasps his hands tightly, eyes welling up, “I love you too, and I’m not letting go of you.”

That’s enough to break any resolve Seojoon had and he starts to cry, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Call me when you get home okay?” Hyungsik says, squeezing his hand, “we’ll make plans for the weekend.”

Seojoon inhales deeply and nods, looking into his eyes, “sounds good” he says with a strained smile.

They hug again, kissing each other’s necks, before Seojoon finally climbs the steps of the bus and finds a seat by the window.

Seojoon’s family and Joo-young join Hyungsik next to the bus, his sister grasping his hand and squeezing it tightly. He rests his head on her head and they watch as the bus pulls away and drives out of the bus station.

“Your brother’s so hot,” Joo-young says to Taehyung, watching the bus drive into the distance.

“So’s yours,” Taehyung replies.


End file.
